


Simulation

by Amorous_Flammetta



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Agent Stone saves the day, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arguing, Bottom Agent Stone (Sonic the Hedgehog 2020), Bottom Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik, CHAPTER THREE TAGS, Chapter Two Tags, Chapter four tags, Choking, Confessions, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Talk, Doctor Robotnik is bad at feelings, Dr. Robotnik is lonely, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, Fluff and Smut, Fucking Machines, Guilt, Light Angst, Light Body Image Issues, M/M, Machines, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Simulation, Smut, Stobotnik, The Real Agent Stone, Top Agent Stone (Sonic the Hedgehog 2020), Top Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik, Virtual Reality, alone time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorous_Flammetta/pseuds/Amorous_Flammetta
Summary: Just a multi-chapter work about Doctor Robotnik's erotic adventures in the VR lab - complete with headset, various attachments, nitrile gloves, and cleaning solution.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik & Agent Stone, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 29
Kudos: 48





	1. A Scheduled Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Dear friends,  
> It has been a minute! That new year's writers block hit hard, but this one crept up on me out of the blue a few days ago and I wrote like a person possessed. I've got at least another two chapters planned out, but not written, so this should be a fun one. Have fun, dear readers, and don't forget to switch on the aerosol sterilizer on your way out of the VR lab. 
> 
> Sordidly yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta

Doctor Robotnik was prepared to burn the midnight oil tonight. He’d just finished a thermos of coffee and was resolutely planted at his console. He’d been here for several hours, bidding his assistant goodnight much earlier in the evening. Since then, he’d gotten up once for a scheduled bathroom break, fetching a protein bar from the kitchen on his way back. The protein bar lay half-eaten, abandoned on the side of the console. 

His head was down, eyes focused on a blueprint when a little beep and buzz pulled his attention away. He looked at the device on his wrist (too large and multi-purposed to really be called a watch) and looked at the little alert blinking on the screen. 

_VR lab simulation test. 11:30PM._

“Huh,” he said, sitting up straighter, rolling his neck from side-to-side, “That day of the month already.” 

He pushed his chair away from the desk, wheeling backward a few feet before taking to his feet. He walked out of the lab, waving a hand to dim the lights behind him. He walked down the hallway and down a set of stairs, then more hallways, lights blinking on in his presence. He didn't think of much as he went. This was merely a matter of practicality, just another appointment on his never-ending schedule. 

He stopped at a nondescript door and pressed his glove to a pad on the wall, the lock audibly clicking open immediately after. Many of the doors on the basement floor were fitted with these scanners, allowing him and only him access. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, lights slowly coming up to a tolerable brightness. 

The Doctor surveyed the largely empty room, hands on his hips as he scanned the sparse furnishings. He came here for regularly-scheduled visits and seldom in-between. These visits weren’t at the forefront of his mind, but he always looked forward to it when he got the notification. He went over to the little desk and pressed a sequence on the keyboard there. A drawer set flush in the wall popped open. 

Robotnik slid the drawer fully open and considered the contents. He grabbed a few things – a clear cylinder, a little bottle, a headset, headphones, a single black nitrile glove – and proceeded over to a black vinyl-covered piece of furniture. It was a bit like a lounge chair, a bit like an exam table the back set up at a forty-five degree angle, the bottom long enough for him to stretch his legs out in front of him. He set down his supplies and swiped a hand through the air, materializing a holoscreen before him. 

He flitted through the menu, ready to select the ideal virtual reality escape for the evening. None of them were surprising. He’d developed each of them with care and extreme attention to detail. Now he just needed one to pique his interest. 

After a moment’s browsing, his eyebrows lifted as his finger paused over an option on the menu. He bared his teeth in an anticipatory grin. 

“Ooh, that’s the one,” he said, selecting the item, “Just what the doctor ordered.” 

The lights dimmed gradually as he walked over to a small chrome clothes rack. There were a few things hanging there already – a robe, a lab coat, some more scintillating items that beggared description. The Doctor shrugged off his coat and hung it up. Next he unbuttoned his shirt casually and stooped to unlaced his shoes, stepping out of them one at a time. He dropped his pants, hanging those alongside his shirt and coat. 

Robotnik meticulously unfastened his sock garters and rolled his socks before placing them inside his shoes. Last, he slipped off his nondescript black underwear, draping them over the clothes rack. He returned to the vinyl table and sat on the edge with a little hiss. The vinyl was cool, despite the comfortable temperature of the room. 

Even though he was alone, he was always oddly self-conscious as he sat there, lean body exposed. While he didn’t espouse the idea of being naked, he knew that it was a bit of a necessity for what was about to happen, or would at least make the cleanup easier. 

He removed one sensor glove and replaced it with the nitrile glove with an audible snap. He laid down on the table, propped up comfortably, stretching out his legs and placing the cool metal headset on, his peripheral vision disappearing instantly. Next, the headphones went on. Top of the line. Noise-cancelling. Ready to shut the real world out completely in favor of his chosen fantasy for the evening. He waved his sensor gloved hand through the air to start the simulation. 

The barren room around him suddenly became a warmly-lit, comfortable space, everything tinted by a soft pink glow, transforming behind the lens of his headset. A door opened to his left, a brief breath of humid, clean-smelling air escaping. When the Doctor turned his head, he drew in an audible breath through his mouth. The sight was a welcome one. 

Agent Stone stood before him, a soft black towel wrapped around his waist. He looked glorious – youthful and muscular, flushed with the glow of good health, utterly nude save for the towel. 

“Hey, Doctor,” he said with a warm smile, one hand coming up to the back of his neck bashfully. 

“Hello, Agent,” Robotnik replied, reaching his hand out toward him, knowing he couldn’t touch him, “Look at you. Fresh from the shower, hm?” 

“Yeah. Just came back from a run,” Stone said, walking toward him, “Thought I’d get cleaned up for you.” 

It was a damn good approximation. Robotnik didn’t care to think about the implications, about the neural net, about all the work, about the covert data he quietly collected to make such an accurate simulation. He certainly wasn’t about to think of it now. Not when Stone's voice was making the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. He didn't need to tear his eyes away to know that his cock was already insistently hard at the mere sight of him, his beautiful simulation. 

Stone was holding the towel closed over his hip demurely. The Doctor raked his eyes down his body, his strong arms, his dark chest hair. Stone looked at him alluringly and dropped his towel. Robotnik sucked in a breath looking at his picture perfect cock, already rock hard. He shook his head in disbelief at the sight. 

“I’m ready for some fun,” Stone flirted, “Did you adjust your busy schedule to come spend some time with me?” 

_I’m ready to have some fun_ – that phrase had come from a wry moment before a dreaded meeting. Robotnik had found it amusing. He filed it away for later. 

“I sure did,” Robotnik said, watching his slow and easy gait. 

_Very lifelike_ , he thought. 

“Well, let’s not waste any time,” Stone replied, looking up at him from beneath his dark lashes, “I know you’re a busy man.” 

_I know you’re a busy man_ – an off-hand comment while adjusting his schedule. All that had changed was the tone. 

This Stone was quite a reasonable facsimile, thanks to all the little bits and pieces of him Robotnik had hoarded over the years they’d worked together. Words and phrases, glances and gestures collected like secret treasures to be cherished privately after sunset, when the building was utterly empty save for the creator himself. 

Of course, the Doctor did not know what his assistant looked like naked, but he did his best to conjecture and then fill in the blanks. His recreation was informed by the little conversations they had – Stone periodically mentioning his workout schedule, Robotnik asking nonchalant questions in reply, Stone happily answering him. They'd cultivated an ease of conversation over time, something the Doctor was thankful for. Robotnik had squirreled away bits and pieces of conversations that took place on government jets, in hotel elevators, at his console over subpar takeout after midnight, working up against an immovable deadline 

Stone closed the space between them, climbing up on the table to straddle his lap, facing away from him. Robotnik shook his head appreciatively, taking in the view. His eyes roamed down Stone’s muscular shoulders, his glistening, toned back, all the way down past his sculpted hips to his spread cheeks and deeply tempting hole. The shift of his muscles was convincingly lifelike. The only off matter was the fact that this Stone didn't displace any weight on the cushioned table. Robotnik was willing to overlook it. 

“Doctor, I’m so horny,” he breathed. 

“I can see that,” Robotnik replied, palming around on the table next to him. 

“Will you help me?” Stone asked, fixing him with a pitiful glance over his shoulder. 

“Oh, _gladly_ ,” he said, “Let’s get you taken care of, Agent.” 

He flipped open the cap of the little bottle he’d brought with him, pouring some of the clear, slippery fluid onto his rubber glove. He placed the lubricant down and picked up the clear cylinder next. It was a device of his own invention, a stroker made of heavy silicone, pleasantly textured inside. It had a steel cap on the sealed end, containing the hardware that paired it to the simulation. 

“Eager tonight,” Robotnik commented, eyes back on Stone. 

“Yeah… Been thinking about you all day,” the Agent replied, “About getting fucked.” 

Robotnik pressed two of his slicked fingers into the stroker, his middle and ring fingers, pressing into it slowly. Stone sighed and tipped his head back. Robotnik was glad to have gloved up – not so much for sanitation, but for ease of cleanup. The tight, slick squeeze of it all might’ve been unbearable on his bare skin so early in the game. 

“Oh, fuck,” Stone groaned. 

Robotnik’s mouth went dry. He’d heard his assistant say “fuck” before, but only in situations of extreme duress. He always forgave it. In this context, it was utterly hair-raising. 

“That’s right. Open up for me,” he coaxed with an audible swallow, knuckles bumping against the silicone. 

“Doctor, that’s so good,” Stone said, breathing a little heavier, “I love it when you finger me.” 

“It’s about to get better,” Robotnik replied, fucking the toy harder with his fingers. 

In the headset, his fingers were buried in Stone’s ass, shining black nitrile of his gloves against his soft, brown, blemishless skin. It was a beautiful sight, his fingers filling that hungry, slick hole. Robotnik trembled to the core of his being at the sight of his naked assistant straddling his lap, looking back over his shoulder at him with such need. 

As always, the stroker began to come to life, clenching faintly around his digits. The lubricant, which was of his own formulation, was starting to warm up, allowing him to get a little more lost in the fantasy. Through the lens of the headset, Stone was bucking back against him, really flexing those gorgeous shoulders. Though he knew it wasn't real, it was starting to feel real. 

“My _god_ , do I want you,” Robotnik murmured. 

“Me too,” Stone whine quietly in response, “Hurry. Please.” 

The utterance made Robotnik weak in the knees. He curled his fingers inside the stroker, feeling it grip them lewdly. He pushed his narrow, knuckly pointer finger in alongside the other two. He grunted, feeling the tight stretch, just dying to feel it around his cock, which was laying neglected against his belly. 

The Doctor simply did not have enough hands. He was reticent to activate the external armature tonight. He hadn’t quite perfected the one for this scenario yet. He wasn’t comfortable enough with it yet to put his dick in the line of fire. He was sure he wouldn’t be injured, but one tug too hard, or a few caught hairs, and the immersion went right out the window. He made time for this once a month, and he wasn't about to allow it to be anything less than perfect. 

He’d work on the armature when he had time. This was, after all, a passion project, not government-sanctioned or funded (at least not directly), and things like this had to wait until he had free time. While that didn't happen often, he made the most of it when he could, tweaking intonations and renderings, attuning armatures, testing fluid viscosity. Working on the VR room was nearly as enjoyable as visiting the VR room. 

“You’re getting awfully wound up over just a few fingers,” he teased, feeling his heart race. 

The Agent panted in reply, pressing back against him, spreading his knees a little wider. 

“And if you’re this hot already,” Robotnik hissed, fingering him a little rougher, "I can't imagine what my cock is going to do to you." 

“I want you,” Stone sighed, "I want you _so_ badly." 

“You’ll have me,” Robotnik said, steadying himself, “All this cock stuffed up inside you, in that pretty fucking hole. God _damn_. I’ll give you a nice ride.” 

“Yes!” Stone replied, looking back at him again, expression already bordering on wrecked. 

“Gotta make sure you’re nice and stretched first,” he said, already starting to pant. 

At this point, he was jamming his fingers forcefully into the toy, using his other hand to simulate the Agent rocking back against him. His toes were already curling at the thought of it. Stone's flushed face, his liquid eyes and shameless declarations were already starting to undo him. 

“I’m ready!” Stone gasped in a broken voice, “Please!” 

Robotnik eased his fingers back out of the toy and held it between his bare knees for a moment, pouring a little more lubricant inside before taking it back up in his hand. He took his cock in his other hand, shivering at the strange, slippery sensation of the lubricated nitrile glove over his superheated skin. He stroked himself a few times, slicking his shaft with the leftover lubricant still clinging to his glove, paying special attention to his cockhead. 

“Fuck,” he hissed.

He was desperately turned on. His stomach clenched as he directed his eyes upward again to see Stone staring back down at him. 

“Are you gonna put it in?” he whined, completely needy. 

“ _Patience_ ,” the Doctor chided. 

He started to ease the tight, puckered opening of the stroker down over his cockhead, feeling his legs jerking automatically as it swallowed him up. He watched Stone easing down, too, looking over his shoulder. His face was flushed, lips slightly parted, brows knitted as he sighed out in pleasure. The slickness and pressure were almost too much, making Robotnik draw ragged breaths. 

“You’re so tight,” he growled, “Sure you can take all this cock?” 

“Ah!” Stone cried softly, “Yeah… Gonna take it all for you.” 

Robotnik bottomed out inside the stroker and held it very still, holding the opening tightly flush against his body. The lubricant had started to warm up instantly on his cock, and the toy was already gripping him, pulsing lightly around his length. He was nearly lightheaded and needed a moment to center himself. Though he had no one to impress in the situation, he wanted to make it last as long as possible, to draw out the pleasure, to take all he could from this scenario, to enjoy it to the fullest. 

“Hurry _up_ ,” Stone whined, “Fuck meee.” 

“My, but we’re impatient tonight,” he said with a chuff. 

_Note to self – increase lag time slightly_ , he thought. 

His simulations were something on his list that would never truly be “done.” There was always room for improvement, always more phrases and scanarios to add. These things could go a thousand different ways, and he let them. None of them ran in a strict, predictable order – that would take so much of the fun out of it. When each branch of the “choose your own adventure” aspect of these scenarios was so carefully curated, it didn’t matter which way it went. It was “all good,” as he’d heard Stone say of other things. 

He liked the unpredictability. He liked never quite knowing what was going to come out of Stone's mouth. It made everything all the more convincing, made it easier for him to lose himself in the fantasy. 

Robotnik held the stroker firmly in his sensor gloved hand and started to fuck up into it, working his hips hard. He didn’t have to take his time. Simulations didn’t need time to adjust and acclimate. 

“Fuck me!” Stone cried, voice a little higher than usual. 

It was pure pornography, the sight of him, the sound of him. The Doctor had a vivid imagination, and if nothing else, his VR lab was proof of that, not that anybody else would ever set foot inside. 

Robotnik gritted his teeth and fucked into the sleeve, feeling the dizzying texture against his oversensitive cock. It was so slick and tight, sending little crackling jolts of pleasure down his legs, up into his chest. He’d done some excellent work for the government, but this stroker was one of his personal crowning achievements. 

“You feel so good,” he said, to both Stone and his precious stroker, “The perfect cocksleeve. Look at you.” 

“You think so?” Stone asked, looking back at him. 

It sounded so much like the genuine article that it gave the Doctor a little chill. 

“Oh, absolutely. Look at how you’re taking my cock,” he said, “A thing of beauty. Absolute synergy. Perfection.” 

Robotnik looked from Stone’s face down to his own cock, but instead of fucking the toy, he was fucking Stone’s hole, watching his cock press in, lube trickling out. Stone’s thighs tensed as he lowered himself down onto his shaft. The sight of his own body, his narrow, bony hips, his wiry thighs against Stone's firm ass, his thick, muscular legs. The contrast of their bodies. It was dizzying. 

“Just _perfect_ ,” Robotnik hissed, feeling the sleeve tighten responsively around him. 

“Doctor, I want to _see_ you,” Stone said, “Can I turn around?” 

“Of course you can,” he replied hastily, "Turn around. Let me see you. Let me see that fucking gorgeous body." 

He pulled off the stroker gradually, feeling his legs jerk as his cockhead slipped out with a wet squelch. Stone shifted on the table, turning to face him, treating him to a view of his muscular chest and toned stomach. Most importantly, he could see Stone’s face now, staring down at him, flushed and dreamy, hungry and needy. 

Stone started to lower himself down again as Robotnik squeezed his cock back into the stroker. The Agent moaned, letting his head slip back, putting his neck on display. He looked gorgeous, otherworldly, eyes lightly closed, jaw set in pleasure. 

“That’s it, take it. Take it all,” Robotnik growled, watching his face contort with pleasure. 

Oh, what he’d give to see the _real_ Agent Stone in this position. The thought made his guts squirm. 

“Fill me up,” Stone breathed, looking down at him with heavy eyelids, “Make me take your cock.” 

Robotnik’s back arched off the table slightly. 

_Forgot I put that bit in there_ , he thought, lowering the small of his back onto the table again, feeling the vinyl adhering lightly to his sweat-slick skin. 

The simulation did most of the talking by several minutes in, leaving Robotnik the option to chime in if he so chose to. He liked to be talked to, deep down, and Stone’s voice was one of the few he could tolerate. He’d even go as far as to say that he enjoyed it. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Stone said, looking down at him, “Just working away in my office, feeling empty.” 

“Feeling empty?” Robotnik repeated, pressing the back of his head into the table, bracing for an imaginary impact. 

“Yeah,” Stone said dreamily, “I always feel empty when I don’t have your cock in me.” 

The Doctor’s eyes rolled back slightly, practically slamming the stroker down over his cock. Stone, of course, matched the pace, breaths coming in little gasps, delectable little sounds of pleasure. 

“God, that’s _so_ deep,” the Agent groaned, “Feels so good, Doctor.” 

Robotnik looked him over, appreciating the tension in his muscles, the flush that had started to creep down his chest. His eyes settled over Stone’s heavy, drooling cock. 

“Touch yourself,” he said, “I want to watch you.” 

Stone trailed a hand down his stomach, slowly wrapping his fingers around his cock and starting with a slow stroke, long even pulls. He let out a shaky moan that made Robotnik buck his hips particularly hard, hitting his pubic bone on the stroker. He’d be bruised there tomorrow, surely, but no matter.

"Harder! Aah! Just like that!" Stone begged. 

Robotnik stilled his hand and started fucking up into the toy instead, letting his hips do the work. His hands were starting to shake. He watched Stone’s hand jerking his cock, eyes wandering to follow his other hand, which moved to squeeze his muscular left pectoral. 

“You’re a fucking _Adonis_ ,” Robotnik gasped. 

Stone smiled and bowed his head slightly – a favored gesture Robotnik had borrowed from the real thing, only adding it to the program after he’d gotten it _just_ right. When complimented, Stone would sheepishly bow his head, sometimes subconsciously moving a hand to cover the back of his neck, sometimes blushing slightly pink. 

“I’d give anything to fuck you,” Robotnik confessed forcefully to the simulation, “To hold you. Fuck, Stone! I want you _so_ badly.” 

“Doctor, I _need_ you!” Stone begged. 

By this point, Robotnik was simultaneously fucking up into the stroker and using his wrist, too, simulating Stone meeting him halfway. His free hand raised to fruitlessly touch his assistant’s body, only to fall back onto the table, glove struggling to grip against the slick vinyl upholstery. 

“Stone, you’re going to make me cum,” he said, words strangled, inelegant. 

He slowed down his hand with the stroker, wanting to ride it out a bit longer. Stone slowed down in tow, looking down at him with overwhelmed eyes. 

“Oh, not yet!” he cried, “Hold out a little longer. Pleeease.” 

The begging was music to Robotnik’s ears. He dialed it back even more, to short, shallow strokes, trying to equalize his breaths. He changed the angle of the stroker considerably, holding it closer to forty-five degrees to his body, as opposed to the near-ninety that it was before. 

Stone leaned forward bracing his hands on Robotnik’s chest. He looked down through the headset at the Agent’s strong hands on him. It was so odd, to have it right before his eyes without any of the human pressure or warmth. He would deal with the cognitive dissonance later. For now, he changed his rhythm to long, slow plunges, listening to the sound of his over-lubricated cock in the silicone sleeve. The sound, in any other context, would’ve been abhorrent to him. Now, as he looked up at his handsome assistant looming over him, the sound pushed him even closer to the edge. 

“Doctor, that’s _so_ good,” Stone said between gasps. 

He tilted his head back again and straightened his wrist with the stroker, not sure how long he could handle the sight of Stone’s hands on his body without actually feeling them. The Agent straightened up, grabbing his cock again. At the sight, Robotnik’s hips started working of their own accord. 

“Right there!” Stone suddenly gasped. 

“Like that?” Robotnik asked, locking into that rhythm, angle precise. 

“Yes! Oh, God! Doctor, yes!” Stone practically screamed. 

He’d never heard the Agent scream, but the approximation was beyond believable. It made Robotnik’s breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Stone, whose head was thrown back, riding out his thrusts, bordering on ecstasy, eyes closed, lips parted, breathing heavy between moans. The sight never got old. It was like re-watching one’s favorite movie. 

“You want your boss’s cock?” Robotnik growled, feeling his reserve weaken. 

“Yes!” Stone replied. 

“You want my cum?” Robotnik asked. 

“Yes!” Stone begged, “Yes, please!” 

“Am I gonna make _you_ cum?” Robotnik replied, near to shouting at this point. 

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, I’m so close!” Stone cried, jerking his cock harder, “Doctor, fuck me!” 

Robotnik planted his feet flat on the vinyl, bending his knees and lifting his hips to fuck harder into the toy, barely able to draw breath. 

“Doctor. Doctor! _Doctor!_ ” Stone begged, before adding a shattering, “ _Oh, god!_ ” 

Robotnik pried his eyes open in time to watch Stone’s orgasm. His expression was completely overcome, eyes wide before closing tightly, crying out as his cock spurted ribbons of viscous cum down onto him. The stroker pulsed around Robotnik’s overwrought cock brutally, vibrating faintly, making him arch up off the table, bending forward at the waist. 

“Fuck! Stone!” he managed, utterly undignified as he felt his own roaring climax filling the stroker, ears filled with his assistant’s final ecstatic gasps. 

Robotnik opened his eyes, momentarily paralyzed by the sheer strength of his orgasm. The stroker was still weakly pulsing around him, sending little searing sparks from his scalp down to his toes. He managed to lift his head a moment. He looked at the ample cum splatters across his stomach, and then took a fleeting glance at Stone, who rolled his neck once before fixing him with a warm, contented look. 

Robotnik reached up and pulled off his headphones, and then the headset, letting his head fall back against the cushioned vinyl table with a soft thud. He rested one hand weakly in the center of his chest, feeling his heart thundering, his breath still coming in dry, deep wheezes. The stroker had gone blessedly still, but he still held it in his hand, not ready to move anything else. 

After a few moments of coming-to, floating lazily on a stream of endorphins born of a maelstrom, he lifted his head and looked down at his body to find it clean. He was glad he hadn’t decided to go with the full simulation tonight. No armature. No synthetic fluids. Minimal cleanup. After all, he still had work to do. 

Robotnik rolled onto his side and slowly pulled the stroker off of his softening cock to avoid spilling the contents. He winced and let out an undignified sound at the sensitivity of it. After lying there another moment quivering, he decided it was time to tidy up and head back to work. He rose on unsteady legs, hearing his skin pull away from the vinyl of the table. He padded barefoot over to the desk. 

The stroker went in the sterilizing chamber. The lube, headset, and headphones went back into their recessed drawer. His one sticky, soiled nitrile glove went in the trash compartment. He ran his ungloved hand down his face, feeling the cool sweat that had gathered on his hot skin. 

He swiped up a playlist of quiet, instrumental music and decided it was best to have a quick rinse. There was a safety shower in the opposite corner of the large room. He pulled off his other glove and quickly soaped and shampooed, rinsing in the pleasantly tepid water. As he closed his eyes, feeling the water cascading down over him, he thought of Stone once more, but quickly banished he thought. 

The Doctor toweled off and dressed, mind pleasantly enveloped in a sort of static, limbs feeling a little heavy, body feeling a little floaty. This was the feeling – the pleasant feeling that lasted a good while before the implications of what he’d done set in. Yes, the feeling lasted a good while, but never quite long enough for his liking. He redressed, dropping the towel in the laundry chute and giving the table a quick spray-down with cleaning solution. He enabled the aerosol sterilizer before waving the lights down and bidding the VR lab adieu. 

He walked back toward the lab, down the hall and up the stairs and back with both hands crammed in his coat pockets to stop them from trembling, overcome with that woozy lightness of being that always followed a particularly intense orgasm. These days, he was nearly completely dependent on the VR lab for a good, reliable climax. 

He sat back down at the console and got back to work, figuring he had another hour or two in him before tiredness really started to set in, and in those few hours, he’d have a clear head, a spectacularly quiet and focused mind. Blessedly, tonight he didn’t feel the sick, crawly sensation of guilt and self-loathing that he often did. He was simply too tired for it. 

No worries about his obsession with his assistant. No thoughts about the extreme efforts he took to replicate him. No shameful musings about how it was wrong based solely on principle, and completely twisted based on how far he'd taken it. No. None of that tonight. Just Doctor Robotnik, alone in his lab, hunched over a blueprint, squeezing the last few drops of productivity out of his exhausted body for the night. His mind was utterly devoid of any thoughts outside of what he was presently working on, a rare feat in and of itself. 

It wasn’t until later, when he was stripped down to his sleepwear with his weighted blanket up to his collarbone, pressing him pleasantly into the mattress, that Stone’s image eased its way back into his head. It wasn’t the debauched, drooling, flushed image of Stone from the VR lab, taking his cock like a pornstar. It was that warm, satisfied look he’d given him after, right before Robotnik pulled off his headset. 

The Doctor smiled in the dark, feeling an odd pang somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. He turned on his side, feeling the weight of the blanket more now, on his hip and shoulder, grounding him in reality. He sighed and closed his eyes, tiredness really starting to settle in. 

In a matter of a few hours, Agent Stone, the genuine article, would walk effortlessly into his lab, the perfect cup of coffee in hand, radiating kindness through his honest smile. If nothing else, that would hold him over until his next appointment in the VR lab. 


	2. In-Depth Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Robotnik has made some changes to the VR Lab protocols. Of course, all changes must be exhaustively tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all,  
> Back again with chapter two! Did somebody ask for bottom!Robotnik? Cause that's what's happening here today. Read on for some hot (I hope) machine-on-Doctor action. 
> 
> Sordidly yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta

_VR lab – test augmented armature. 11:30PM._

Robotnik broke out in a toothy grin and rubbed his gloved hands together. He’d been looking forward to this. In the time between the last two big government project deadlines – a tank and a tiny, soundless heat-seeking drone – he'd made space for several late nights of work on the VR lab protocols. 

He’d done some light preliminary testing, but tonight would be the first full run-through of a scenario, start to finish with the new augmentations. He hopped spryly out of his chair and strode lightly out of the lab. Again, back down the hall and down the stairs, a spring in his step. 

He let himself into the locked lab, closing the door behind him. The lights came up and he immediately pulled up a holoscreen, using his sensor glove to scroll through the menu. He swept down quickly and tapped the highlighted option with a wistful sigh. He was not in the mood to waste time hemming and hawing tonight. He knew exactly what he wanted. 

The lights dimmed a bit further as he sauntered over to the drawer and retrieved a bottle of lubricant, a headset, a pair of headphones, and his singular black nitrile glove. He considered the stroker a moment with open, spidery fingers, but left it in its designated place. He had enough to think about without bringing that into play. 

After laying the objects out on the familiar black vinyl table, the Doctor hurried over to the clothes rack to disrobe. Though he was rushing to test the new adjustments, nothing would get in the way of neatly hanging his clothes. That simply would not do. With arms crossed modestly over his bare chest, he padded back over to the table, laying down on his back, comfortably propped up at a forty-five-degree angle. He switched one sensor glove for the black rubber one, snapping it against his wrist with great satisfaction. 

With a final parting glance around the sterile space, he slipped the headset on easily and then the headphones. Robotnik waved his sensor glove to start the simulation, relaxing back onto the cushioned table. 

“Here we go,” he whispered, wetting his lips in anticipation. 

He opened his eyes to find himself in another room entirely. It was a pleasant space, lights dimmed, everything decked in cool neutrals. 

“Hey, Doctor,” a familiar voice called from the doorway, “Lookin’ good.” 

He turned his head to see Agent Stone leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed confidently across his chest. He was in slacks and a black dress shirt, open at the neck, sleeves rolled to the elbows. He looks positively ravishing. 

“Looking quite good yourself,” Robotnik replied. 

“I feel overdressed,” Stone said, standing up straight and walking toward him, “It’s not every day I find my boss naked in my bed, after all.” 

Robotnik looked down at himself, confirming that he was, indeed, still naked. He was already more than half-hard, just at simulated Stone’s uncanny accuracy. He watched the Agent cross the room toward him, climbing up onto the bed (the table he laid on had taken on a different appearance for immersion purposes) and settling between his knees. Stone looked at him expectantly, grinning at him with those impossibly white teeth. 

“So, Doctor, did you have anything in mind this evening?” he asked. 

“I think you know what I have in mind,” Robotnik replied. 

He nearly reached out to touch him, he was so lifelike. Stone shook his head with a teasing smile. 

“Too proud to say you want me to fuck you then?” he said, voice dipping down low. 

“Ooh, definitely not too proud,” Robotnik muttered, tone making his insides churn. 

“What is it then?” Stone asked quietly, leaning in, “Is the Doctor feeling shy?” 

“Perhaps a touch,” Robotnik admitted on a sigh. 

Tweaks to his favorite creations always made him a little giddy, a special mix of excitement and nerves.

Stone sat up to his full height between his spread thighs and narrowed his eyes at him suggestively. 

“I’ll go easy on you,” he said, before adding, “Maybe.” 

Robotnik chuckled deeply, thoroughly enjoying this simulation so far. 

“Would you do that for an old man?” he asked. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Stone said, with affection so genuine that it shook the Doctor to his core. 

Robotnik swallowed audibly, feeling his heart skip a beat. He shook his head faintly to focus. 

“Now, I know you like to play coy with me, but if you want me, you’re gonna have to tell me,” Stone said, “Explicitly.” 

He leveled his eyes at the Doctor in a way that nearly made him quail. The Agent was just painfully seductive, and Robotnik simply could not resist him. His confident air, his half-lidded eyes, the ghost of a scent of familiar cologne on him. 

“Stone, I want you,” Robotnik breathed, closing his eyes tightly a moment. 

“Want me to _what?”_ Stone asked.

“I want you to fuck me,” Robotnik said, tilting his head back slightly to ease his already ragged breathing. 

He’d expeceted this simulation to be good, but not this good. Not this realistic. He didn’t expect it to jangle his nerves like this. 

“Aw, was that so hard?” Stone asked. 

Robotnik heard a faint sound, a sound that he knew to be the armature appearing from underneath the table he was laying on, knees apart. Things were about to get interesting. 

_Here we go_ , he thought, taking a breath and letting his eyes flutter closed. 

A dry exhale escaped him as he felt a shatteringly realistic finger press against his hole. This was one of the newly-tweaked features – a self-lubricating, almost frighteningly realistic hand. He was tempted to slide up the visor of his headset, to admire his handiwork in action and in reality, but he knew that would ruin his immersion for the rest of the evening. He refrained. 

Instead, he opened his eyes and looked down between his spread thighs at Stone’s strong forearm and rolled-up sleeve, eyes traveling down to his wrist, where it disappeared between his legs. Robotnik discreetly lifted his non-dominant hand, rubbing the thumb and forefinger of his sensor glove together to take control of the armature. 

He began to move his wrist at the pace he liked, feeling Stone’s finger pressing into him, rubbing against him, dragging along his insides. It was spectacular. Any slight movement of his hand or wrist resulted in a perfectly mirrored action from the armature. He curled his finger in an exploratory fashion and was rewarded with the Agent's finger doing the same inside of him, making his breath catch. 

“Oh, fuck,” he sighed, relaxing, sliding down the table a bit. 

“Let’s get you opened up for me,” Stone purred, “That’s right. Just _relax_. Workday’s over.” 

The Agent’s voice was lulling him, carefully attenuated to sound physically close to him. Stone was on his knees, hovering above him, supporting his weight with one arm, fucking into him with the other hand. He was eyeing Robotnik hungrily. 

“God, you’re tight. Loosen up, Doctor,” he growled. 

Robotnik gasped quietly, rubbing his middle finger harder along the surface of the table for friction. Stone’s finger worked a little more roughly in response. He extended his ring finger next, feeling a second finger prodding against his hole. 

“Stone, that’s _good_ ,” he breathed. 

“Yeah? Like it when I finger you?” he asked, voice bordering on domineering, “Not being too rough, am I?” 

Robotnik shook his head before letting it fall back against the cushioned table, lips parted, breaths already forceful as a second finger stretched him open. He curled his fingers and arched his back off the table sharply. Next, he carefully scissored them, feeling it ignite sparks behind his eyelids, making his chest tighten. 

It was such an odd sensation, to be controlling a toy hands-free in a virtual reality scenario. It put an odd, unreal gulf between his own hand and the mechanical one. He was almost able to sell himself on the idea that he wasn't controlling it. Almost. Robotnik opted not to think too hard about it, instead making Stone’s hand fuck into him a little more roughly, wiping his mind clean of any philosophical musings, replacing them with the warm, pinkish haze of pleasure. 

“That’s right,” Stone encouraged, “Be a good little Doctor and relax for me. Just like that.” 

A thrill ran through him at his assistant’s words. Being told to relax repeatedly left him no choice but to do just that. He pushed his knees a little further apart. Stone’s free hand alighted on the inside of his bare thigh, fingers tightening there. Robotnik, of course, couldn’t feel it, but the sight made his breath catch. It wasn't time for that yet. 

“The sooner you relax, the sooner I can fuck you,” Stone said, looking up at him with a playful wickedness. 

The Doctor felt a third finger roughly prodding at him, not enough to be painful, but enough to make his hips jolt on the table. He did like it a little rough, after all. 

“Easy now,” he chided, even though he was controlling the force and depth. 

“Sorry,” Stone said quietly, “I just can wait to put my cock in you.” 

Robotnik drew in a deep, shaky breath, grinding his fingers a little more insistently. He was eager to move on. He’d rather savor the second half of the scenario than the first. He'd confirmed that control of the first hand was a success, and there was still so much to do. A little moan escaped from his lips as he scissored his fingers.

“Ooh, that’s what I wanna hear,” Stone said, “Leave your work voice in the lab and let me here those sweet little whimpers. That’s what I want. I want to reduce the mighty Doctor Robotnik to an absolute mess.” 

Robotnik crooked his fingers particularly hard there, back arching off the table, crying out honestly. 

“Just like that,” Stone crooned, “I think you’re ready. You ready for my cock?” 

“Yes,” he replied insistently. 

“You sure?” the Agent teased. 

“Yes!” Robotnik replied, impatient now. 

Stone flashed him an alluring smile and Robotnik pulled his fingers back, causing Stone to ease his fingers out. He let out a pent-up breath when they slipped free. 

“Turn over. Hands and knees,” Stone said firmly, unbuttoning his shirt hastily. 

Robotnik bristled pleasantly at the command. 

“God, Agent,” he said, breathless as he scrambled to his hands and knees, "You don't know what you do to me."

Before he situated himself on all fours, Robotnik pressed another short command into his sensor glove, relinquishing control, ready to let the simulation take its course for the time being. He was ready to let himself go, to surrender to the automatic, randomly shuffled twists and turns of this scenario. 

As he eased forward on his knobby elbows, ass in the air, he shivered as he felt those slick fingers graze his hole again. 

“I still can’t believe this hole is mine,” Stone said from behind him. 

The Doctor groaned quietly, resting his forearm on the table to better brace himself. He wondered if the real Agent Stone was a possessive lover. He imagined he might be. 

The fingers disappeared, only to be replaced by the blunt but careful probing of a cock. This was the second feature he’d updated. Though he couldn’t see it at the moment, he quietly appreciated all its features – the lifelike texture, the perfect approximation of human body warmth, the subtle self-lubrication. Truly, it was form meeting function in a beautiful, obscene manner. 

Robotnik tensed his shoulders as the cockhead pressed inside him, giving way to the generous, but realistic length and girth of the shaft. He felt an obscene dribble of warm lubricant inside him and suppressed a shiver. 

"Oh, Stone," he breathed, "You're so big." 

Of course, he’d never seen Agent Stone’s penis, but based on a few simple biometric equations, this was the best possible approximation he could come up with. Approximated as it was, he certainly could not fault it. Stone’s cock, though simulated, felt fantastic as it stretched him, filled him up to satisfaction. He felt the faint throb of it deep inside of him and trembled. 

“Relax those shoulders,” Stone said from behind him, with a faint sing-song inflection, “Relax those shoulders and take my dick. Can you feel how hard I am for you, Doctor?” 

“Y-yes,” Robotnik stammered, feeling himself being gradually filled up. 

It was unsurprisingly glorious, an approximation of the perfect fuck without any of the human variables. Especially when Robotnik looked over his shoulder at Stone, guiding his cock inside of him. The Agent’s body was sublimely rendered, as usual. Perfect, smooth skin, beautifully groomed chest hair, all sculpted muscle without being gratuitous. He was so realistic, and so beautiful. 

“Agent,” he breathed, genuinely aroused by the sight of the man behind him. 

Robotnik let his head hang limp at the neck as Stone’s cock eased into him, the perfect size, the perfect shape. 

“God, you take it like a fucking champ,” Stone said, voice tight as he bottomed out, “It’s like you’re pulling me in. You want me that bad, huh?” 

“I do,” he replied, letting out a little gasp as he adjusted. 

If only the real Agent Stone knew what he got up to, getting fucked by one of his machines late at night, once a month at a predetermined time. Robotnik was sure he’d be utterly scandalized, even if he didn’t know the part he unwittingly played in it all. That he was the inspiration behind the obscenity. 

“Fuck me,” Robotnik whispered roughly into the crook of his arm, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. 

"You're so cute when you're impatient," Stone said with a little laugh, "Which is basically... All the time."

Despite himself, Robotnik felt his cheeks color at that remark. It was intensely affectionate. 

Stone began to move, slowly at first, easing his cock out as though he had all the time in the world. He pressed back in just as slowly, earning a loud exhale from the Doctor. Stone repeated the motion a few times, giving Robotnik ample time to adjust to the length and girth of him. 

“Doctor, you feel _so good_ ,” the Agent groaned, “I’m gonna give you what you need.” 

“What’s that?” Robotnik asked with a dazed hum. 

Most of this dialogue was synthesized, sampled from Agent Stone’s voice to create words and phrases Robotnik had never heard him say. Under the guise of science, he pressed for detail, but deep down, he knew it was lust driving his responses, making him ask questions of the Agent, hungry for his voice, for his responses. 

“You need a good, thorough fucking, I think, to keep you in line,” Stone said, voice a little strained. 

“To keep me in line?” he replied, slightly amused. 

The synthesized voice was fantastic. So realistic, no lapses in syntax. Completely believable. He could almost forget that this Stone wasn’t the real thing. Almost. Robotnik’s amusement faded as he felt Stone pulling out and pushing back in a little faster. 

“Oh, yes. I keep you in line during the day, don’t I? Keep you caffeinated and on schedule, give you the tools and supplies you need. A good fuck is what you need right now, though. You need me to keep you satisfied. Keep your mind from wandering to this during working hours,” Stone said, voice borderline hypnotic, “Yeah, _my_ tool is the one you need tonight, isn't it, Doctor?"

Robotnik couldn’t argue with that logic. His eyes rolled sightly when he felt that almost-worryingly realistic hand on his hip, gripping him, holding him in place. He moaned quietly, slipping a little deeper into the illusion. 

“Do I satisfy you, Doctor?” Stone growled from behind him. 

“Oh, _god_ , you know you do,” Robotnik replied, craning his neck. 

“Do you think of this when you’re alone? Do you think of me fucking you?” Stone asked, "Do you jerk off when you think of me giving you what you need?" 

_Note to self, remove that prompt_ , Robotnik thought, _Too real_. 

He didn’t answer Stone. Instead, he rocked back against him, wanting more. 

“Oh, you want it _bad_ tonight, don’t you?” the Agent asked. 

“Y-yeah,” Robotnik said, feeling him speed up slightly, grinding hard against him, "Very much so." 

Stone’s hand gripped his hip tighter, and he stopped again when he was fully inside. Robotnik liked a good tease, but he was ready for the main event. Though, he did use the opportunity to appreciate the realism of the cock he'd made, the warm balls nestled against him, pleasingly and realistically weighty. Of course, there was no weight on the table, no thighs bracketing his, no hips pressed against his ass. He had to draw the line somewhere, after all. Cock. Balls. Hands. That was where the line had been drawn. No body. No legs. Most certainly no mouth. Even he had his limits. 

Robotnik was at the point where he simply could not wait any longer. He pressed a quick sequence on the buttons in his palm and rubbed his pointer finger and thumb together again in a steady rhythm, feeling Stone’s cock immediately follow suit. He relinquished control with a few more button presses as a shiver ran up his back. He just wanted to get things moving, and then let things take their course. 

“There we go,” Stone purred, “You are _so_ good. You hardly need any time to adjust anymore. You just take my cock like it's second nature. Like you were made for it.” 

The Doctor breathed a little moan and arched his back down toward the table, bucking back against Stone ever so slightly. Beyond the virtual reality, beyond the addition of the facsimile of his assistant, there was something to this. It was simply so practical and so easy to be able to please himself hands free. 

He didn’t like to think of the more scandalous implications of building a machine to fuck him. He often focused on the practical positives. It was the epitome of working smarter, not harder. Much less mess. Much less touching. Having a dedicated space to do it in helped him compartmentalize his sexual urges, helping to keep them from appearing unexpectedly at inappropriate times and places. Having a dedicated time and place for these sordid activities kept them out of his mind when his focus was most needed elsewhere. 

Until recently, that is. 

His simulation of Agent Stone had gotten so lifelike, so convincing, that it had started to leak into his everyday life. Every so often, the real Agent Stone would say something that would make his mind flicker back to the VR lab. He’d take a discreet, steadying breath and banish the thought before acknowledging or responding to his assistant. 

It had happened just the week prior. 

Robotnik had been in the hangar, levering his weight against an open hatch as he adjusted one of the hinges with both hands. Stone had come in for _something_ , he couldn’t quite remember what. He assessed the situation and trotted over, ready to assist. 

“Wait, let me help you with that,” he said as he walked up, followed by, “There you go. That looked like an uncomfortable position.” 

Stone pressed his back up against the large hatch, allowing the Doctor stand straight and get a better vantage point, to focus just on what his hands needed to do. Unfortunately, he was thinking of simulation Stone, of some similar things that had been uttered in the VR lab, of other things his hands could be doing. 

_You’re awfully hard, Doctor. It looks_ _uncomfortable_ _. Let me help you with that._

“Thank you, Agent,” Robotnik replied after pushing the unwholesome thoughts to the back of his waking mind, unable to look at him. 

He was playing at a dangerous game and he knew it, but he refused to acknowledge it at the moment, much more willing to focus on the realistic thumb stroking across his prominent hipbone, the cock buried deep inside him, fucking him at a pleasant pace. 

“Agent, that’s _good_ ,” he said, resting his face in the crook of his arm again, hiding his eyes. 

“Sure is,” Stone said, “You’re so fucking slick. Do you know how often I think of this? How often I think about fucking you?” 

“Tell me,” Robotnik gasped, letting his chest slide down closer to the table, ass in the air. 

“All the time, Doctor,” Stone replied with a little laugh, “Once I had you, how could I possibly think of anything else? Squeezing my dick into your tight little hole. Making you scream my name. Making you cum. Cumming inside you. Just making a complete mess of you. Mmm.” 

“Fuck,” Robotnik said under his breath. 

Tonight's dialogue was bordering on unspeakably hot.

“Bending you over and getting to see _all this skin_ , your gorgeous back,” Stone said, hand moving from the Doctor’s hip to trail along his spine, “Maybe I’ll pull out and cum on your back tonight. Let it drip down all over you. Maybe have you pose for a little picture for me all covered in my spunk. Would you like that?” 

“Ooh, I would like that, but not tonight,” Robotnik said, knowing that would change the direction of the scenario. 

Though it did sound terribly tempting, it wasn’t exactly what he had in mind for this evening. He'd tweaked the seminal output, so that needed to be tested, and if it was all over his back, he wouldn't exactly be able to make a clear, quantifiable judgement. 

“Okay, okay,” Stone soothed, pressing his palm into his lower back, “I won’t pull out if that's what you want.”

"Please," Robotnik sighed, "That's what I want, Stone."

"Of course," he replied warmly, a phrase Stone used often. 

The Agent was fucking into him harder now, cock filling over and over again in a staggeringly pleasurable rhythm. Not too slow, not to fast, hard enough to make him a little breathless. Robotnik allowed himself to be rocked by it, to be moved, to give over control to him. 

“Though I wouldn’t mind you turning over,” Stone said a few moments later. 

“Huh?” Robotnik replied. 

“As much as I love looking at your back,” he replied, hand slipping around to trail down the Doctor’s stomach, “I’d like to see the rest of you.” 

A breath escaped Robotnik’s lips, faintly aghast at his own handiwork. As much as he wanted it on his knees tonight, the teasing idea of being able to look at his assistant was too much to resist. 

“C’mon, Doctor, let me see you,” Stone teased. 

“Can’t say no to you,” Robotnik muttered, “Pull out.” 

He heard Stone chuckle and felt him ease his cock out. Once free, Robotnik rolled his neck before rearranging his gangly frame onto his back. Once he was settled, he took in the sight before his headset. Agent Stone looked down at him, muscular, handsome, with a smile somewhere between warm and hungry. He was glad he'd listened and turned over. Stone seemed to consider him carefully, looking his body over. Robotnik felt observed, and was tempted to bring his arms up to cover himself slightly. He resisted the urge. 

“Spread your legs for me,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly in a way that made him squirm. 

He did as he was told, spreading and thighs as he scooted slightly backward to sit up a bit more. He lifted his hips and Stone wasted no time sliding his cock back in with relative ease, groaning in apparent relief as he did. Robotnik watched him capture his lower lip between his teeth briefly, watched him tense his neck as his cock pressed all the way in, rubbing against him in all the right places. 

“What a view,” the Doctor said, watching Stone duck his head almost bashfully. 

The Agent reached forward with a confident, but gentle hand, skimming his fingertips down Robotnik’s chest. Again, he inwardly marveled at his creation. The synthetic skin was so lifelike, the temperature and feel of it so convincing. 

“Aah, you’re perfect,” Robotnik whispered, arching into his touch. 

“You’re gonna make me blush,” Stone replied with a wink. 

He started to move his hips again, picking up quickly to the pace he was at before, giving it to the Doctor nice and hard. 

“Look at you,” Stone said, “God, you look so good when you take my cock. Does that feel good?” 

“ _Good_ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Robotnik growled. 

He looked down at himself, at his hard cock dribbling precum onto his belly, at Stone’s hips thrusting into him forcefully, making his frail body jump slightly with each movement. He hissed as he watched Stone slip one hand under his knee, lifting his leg, bringing his foot up off of the table. He cried out as the angles changed, somehow even better than before.

“Oh, _that’s_ it,” Stone groaned, gripping the underside of his thigh tightly, “These fucking _legs_.” 

Stone was careful not to brace the Doctor’s calf against his shoulder, as there was no shoulder there to brace him. Robotnik was careful about the continuity of his simulations. For a split second, a lewd thought crept in, about being fucked by a machine, being fucked by one of his creations, a creation whose sole purpose was to please him. He pictured it a moment, what this would've looked like without the headset, his long, lean body sprawled out, being fucked not by his ravishing assistant, but by a cold, minimal machine. He shuddered deep inside, which Stone evidently felt. 

“Oh, yeah. Must’ve done something right,” he said.

“You’re doing _everything_ right,” Robotnik said between little gasps. 

“Well, maybe not _everything_ ,” Stone said. 

He reached down between them with his free hand and grasped the Doctor’s cock in his warm, slick fist, synthetic skin lubricated and ready. Robotnik all but slammed his head back against the vinyl cushioning, a growl quickly turning to a full shout, arching his back like a bow. There it was. The second hand he'd added. Robotnik was already infinitely pleased with it. 

“There we go,” Stone said, “That’s what I like to hear.” 

“Fuck me, Stone!” Robotnik said, fingers of both hands digging into the vinyl at his sides. 

The Agent’s cock fucked into him harder and he ground back against him, suddenly in a frenzy. 

“Fuck!” he growled, feeling the hand pushing his thigh back against his body, “Harder!” 

“Like that?” Stone asked through gritted teeth, redoubling his efforts. 

“Yesss!” the Doctor hissed, each breath coming out as a desperate moan. 

“Fuck, I love it when you’re needy,” Stone said, “Tell me what you need.” 

“Need your cock,” Robotnik moaned helplessly, "Give it to me, Stone. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." 

He opened his eyes with great effort, focusing on Stone’a handsome face. He watched him grimace faintly with pleasure, tipping his head back as he fucked him harder. Down at the end of the table, the Doctor’s toes curled at the sight. 

“You look so fucking good,” he panted. 

“I wish you could see how you look when you’ve got my cock in you,” Stone replied, looking down at him again. 

Robotnik felt his eyes roll back at the suggestion. He moaned loudly, feeling Stone’s cock deep inside of him, his hand stroking him so perfectly, just the right speed, just the right amount of pressure. 

“You gonna cum for me?” Stone asked, “I wanna watch you cum.” 

“Yeah,” Robotnik managed between gasps, unable to say much more. 

He managed to lift his head again, looking down at Stone’s hand wrapped around his shaft, watching him thrust into him, hearing the obscene sounds and the Agent’s heavy breaths. Stone leaned forward, pushing Robotnik’s thigh almost against his stomach. 

“So deep!” Robotnik shouted, throwing his head back against the table again, “Fuck me, Stone! Fuck me!” 

Were he in control of his faculties, he’d have realized that he was likely going to be hoarse in the morning. Stone let go of his thigh, and Robotnik’s hand immediately took its place, holding his leg aloft, nails biting into his own skin, not wanting to lose the glorious tension created by the harsh angles of his body. 

Stone’s hand settled on his throat and the Doctor’s eyes snapped open. The Agent’s grip tightened. Not enough to cut off air, but enough to press against his Adam’s apple as he swallowed audibly. Stone looked into his eyes with a fiery intensity. 

“Oh, god, Stone!” Robotnik cried. 

“C’mon, Doctor. I wanna make you – _oh_ \- I wanna make you cum,” Stone grunted, looking down at him with determination. 

The Agent’s other hand changed rhythm abruptly, squeezing his shaft hard, stroking his cock in slow, purposeful tugs. The pleasure he felt mounted even more. He couldn't control his voice. 

“That’s it, Stone!” Robotnik gasped loudly, swallowing again against the hand on his throat. 

The Agent nodded, hammering away at him, pounding into him as though his life depended on it, squeezing his cock hard in one hand, his throat lightly in the other. Robotnik was starting to get lightheaded from the sudden onset of searing pleasure, feeling his stomach clench and his legs trembling. 

“Gonna cum,” Stone choked out, looking down at him with desperate eyes. 

Robotnik was breathing so hard he couldn’t speak. All he could manage was a nod. He could barely keep his eyes open. 

“Open your mouth,” Stone commanded. 

Robotnik parted his lips and lowered his chin slightly, feeling the pad of Stone’s thumb press against his lip, hooking slightly over his bottom teeth. The heel of the Agent’s hand was pressing on his throat, restricting his breathing just slightly. 

“Such a – oh, _god_ \- such a good boy,” Stone said shakily. 

The exponential effect of it all – Stone's cock slamming into him, his firm tugs on his cock, his thumb in his mouth, his fingers around his throat – Robotnik felt his world imploding. He could feel his fingers twitching, hips jerking hard as he reached his dizzying, breathtaking climax. 

His eyes fluttered open for a brief second, in which time seemed to slow down. He watched Stone’s earnest face, his dark, liquid eyes meeting his, holding his gaze, his gorgeous expression wordlessly saying “I just want to please you.” He was aware of Stone’s hot, rasping groans as his hips flickered in and out of rhythm tellingly before he finished. 

Robotnik arched up off the table as he felt the hot gush of Stone’s orgasm, cock pulsing so realistically that he cried out again, fingers digging into the table. The Agent’s thumb slipped from his mouth and his hand came to briefly cradle his cheek before drawing away, something Robotnik hadn’t expected. 

“Oh, Doctor,” Stone’s voice said breathily, “Oh, Doctor.” 

He opened his eyes briefly, savoring the sight of Stone, gleaming with sweat, struggling to catch his breath. Robotnik collapsed back against the table and pressed a series of buttons into the palm of his sensor glove to terminate the program for the night. He was too overwhelmed to take it any longer. 

Both of Stone’s hands disappeared from his body, and his cock slowly pulled out, synthesized cum leaking out in its wake. The Doctor didn’t want to see the bare and strange armature when he came to, two disembodied hands and a slick, glistening dildo. Whisper quiet, they retracted back into the base of the table for later sterilization. 

Robotnik laid very still, eyes closed behind the headset. He needed a moment to recuperate. One of his hands rested just below his ribcage, feeling his rushed, shallow breaths. He could feel the sweat cooling on his skin, adhering him to the vinyl table. 

When Robotnik managed to pull his headphones and headset off with shaky hands, he finally opened his eyes. He was sure at least several minutes had passed. He was unsurprised to find himself laying flat on the table, one leg hanging off the side. He lifted his head with great effort, running his rubber gloved hand through the obvious aftermath of his orgasm that had pooled on his stomach. 

He absently stared at the viscous, pearly fluid against the matte black nitrile for a moment, passively noting the viscosity before letting his arm go limp at the elbow, letting it hang off the edge of the table. He let his head fall back a bit more gently this time. 

He was utterly drained. He knew there would be no more work tonight. He resolved to just lay still a while, allowing himself the light, dazed, unsteady rush that inevitably followed an orgasm that intense. Once his breathing equalized, he cleared his throat. 

“I’ll consider that a – heh – success,” he managed, wheezing a dry laugh. 

Sure, there would be time later to make a few tiny tweaks to the endless list, but adding that second hand had been a blazing success. Robotnik didn’t feel the need to dress and rush back to the lab tonight, to start work for next time. For the moment, he was too tired and too content in his little successes, in his private time with himself and his most enjoyable, if not greatest, creation. 

He found himself in an almost-uncharacteristically good mood. He felt a grin overtake him alongside another dry laugh. 

“If only the muse himself knew of these little successes,” he said wryly. 

Yes, the only things on the docket for the rest of the evening would be a little celebratory glass of bourbon, a hot shower back in his quarters, and easing off into a heavy, restorative sleep, where he would undoubtedly see his muse again before daybreak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear friends,  
> I hope you liked this little installment! I was initially planning on making this a three chapter affair but... I can't help it. I alluded to some angst in chapter one, and I feel it's only fair to dedicate a short little chapter to that next, before the real Agent Stone makes an appearance to save us from the pining.  
> What do you all think? Can you handle a little angst? I'm trying harder to upload this one on a more regular schedule, so I hope to be back with something sooner than later.  
> Until next time, wishing you all well. 
> 
> Sordidly yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta


	3. Crisis of Conscience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Robotnik considers the implications of what he's created.  
> Angst ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all,  
> Prepare yourself for Sadbotnik Hours.  
> I'm not a big angst writer, so I hope this isn't too much/too little/a letdown. Also, probably important to note that there is NO SEX in this chapter.   
> Do not worry, friends! Next chapter won't be so sad. We will finally get actual Agent Stone in chapter four, which is already underway. We'll find out what he thinks of this whole situation.  
> Hunker down with a blanket and your best sad times playlist - Bot is really going through it. 
> 
> Sordidly yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta

Doctor Robotnik was working feverishly, head bowed, scribbling away at a long set of equations. Today had not gone as he’d hoped. One miscalculation had thrown off his whole plan, leading to a slew of other inconveniences, as it usually did. 

He’d been short and stern with his assistant, who was only trying to help. Stone hadn’t set foot in the lab before leaving for the day, instead calling out with a demure goodbye from just across the threshold. All Robotnik could manage was a wave of his hand, not turning toward him, not uttering a single word. 

He’d since skipped his usual meager dinner in favor of a thermos of coffee, burnt and bitter from his own careless distraction, despite his body’s protestations. He was only irritated further when the device on his wrist started to insistently vibrate. 

_VR Lab – 11:30PM_

“NOT tonight, dear,” he growled wryly through clenched teeth, shaking his wrist to dismiss the notification. 

He didn’t have the time or the patience tonight, nor was he in the right headspace. He could defer this scheduled appointment until next month, when today’s failures would just seem a blip on the radar. He gritted his teeth and switched to the holoscreen, making adjustments to the carrier vehicle he was working on. He'd just set his teeth into it when another vibration interrupted his intense train of thought. 

_VR Lab – 15 minutes overdue._

“I _said_ I have a headache,” he snarled, turning off reminders, “I am NOT in the MOOD.” 

He did have a headache. And a sore back. And hadn’t eaten enough or drank enough water. He knew his current conditions were not ideal, but he was not willing to step away from the console with his work in such disarray. He had to fix something tonight. Just one thing. Anything. 

After another few hours of joyless tinkering, he finally fixed the issue on paper. He would make the necessary adjustments to the physical object tomorrow. He was simply too tired to risk another mistake now. Robotnik sat back in his chair, watching the numbers correct themselves all the way down the holoscreen in a soothing cascade. 

He dragged a gloved hand down the surface of his face, sighing wearily. Not every day went as planned, even when you’re a genius with five PhDs. If it happened to him, it could happen to anyone, he supposed. 

He thought back to Agent Stone and it turned his empty stomach. 

He’d, of course, noted that Robotnik was not having a great day and did everything he could to quietly help. Extra coffee. Held his calls without being asked. Rescheduled one conference call to the end of the week, seeing that today was not the ideal time to be discussing funding for the next big project. 

“Doctor, what can I do to help?” he’d asked around the 2:00PM mark, standing far back from the console. 

“Nothing,” Robotnik had replied gruffly, “Go away.” 

Thinking back on it, he winced like he’d touched something hot. 

Of course, he hadn’t done it with any malice. He hadn’t barked at him, there had been no teeth to his abrupt dismissal. Frankly, he hadn’t wanted Stone there because he didn’t want to take his foul mood out on him. He had just, of course, handled it less-than gracefully at the moment. He was sure that Stone hadn’t taken it personally. Well, he was almost sure. He was used to Robotnik’s bad moods. He knew him better than anyone else. 

_Better than anyone else_. 

The words echoed in the Doctor’s mind, making him bow his head. 

“Nice going, asshole,” he chided himself. 

He pushed his chair away from the console and stood up, stretching. He'd been sitting far too long. He shuffled off into his quarters thoughtlessly, finding himself standing in the kitchen. He halfheartedly opened a few cabinets, staring inside a moment before closing each one. Nothing seemed appetizing. 

He turned around and surveyed his neatly-arranged selection of liquor bottles.

_Maybe a drink would help me_ unwind, he thought idly.

He considered it briefly before deciding that he’d done nothing today to really deserve one. He continued back out of the kitchen and into the lounge, sitting on the sofa, kicking his feet up onto the glass and chrome coffee table. He covered his face with his hands and sighed, letting his shoulders sink. He already knew he was on the very outer rim of a downward spiral. The only question is how deep he would go. 

He thought, regrettably, of his assistant again. 

How he’d effectively stolen his innocence. How everything he said and did was being noted, recorded, stored for nefarious purposes. That alone was horrific, utterly totalitarian. Stone unknowingly lived a large portion of every day in a surveillance state. 

Robotnik, despite his weariness, sprang up off the sofa, propelled by his own horror. He swiftly walked back toward the kitchen and poured himself a drink without batting an eye. He pressed the small of his back up against the kitchen counter as he swirled the single ice cube in his scant glass of bourbon. He wasn't drinking to forget, just to take a little of the edge off. 

He thought of one particular event from a few days before. An event that he knew would be assimilated into whatever scenario he selected at his next scheduled VR appointment. He was strolling around the building, looking for the only other living thing inside, his assistant. 

He walked past the small kitchen area, moving so quickly he had to backpedal once he’d registered Stone in his periphery. 

“There you are, Agent,” he said, walking into the well-lit room. 

Stone had his back turned to him, busy over something on the kitchen counter. The Doctor was nauseatingly aware of a faint buzzing, a familiar sound in a different, safe-for-work context. Nonetheless, it set his nerves on edge. 

“Ah, hi. Need me, Doctor?” Stone asked casually, a smile faintly audible in his voice. 

Robotnik winced faintly and collected himself. Maybe Stone wouldn't turn around to perceive him at all and he could escape mostly unscathed. 

“Yes,” he said, drawing in closer, looking at what he was doing. 

Unsurprisingly, Stone was frothing milk with a little handheld frother. It was that time of the afternoon, after all. He watched the Agent pour the foamed milk over two cups of coffee, coaxing the last bit out by running his hand along belly of the little metal pitcher he’d been frothing in. He patted it a few times before shaking out the last few gobs. 

“Gotta get out every... Last... Drop,” he said, carefully shaking the pitcher to punctuate his statement, “Don’t want to lose any.” 

Robotnik hummed affirmatively, distinctly uncomfortable, but he could not make himself leave. The coffee smell was borderline intoxicating. Maybe he could just take his cup and leave. 

He watched Stone tap both cups to settle the milk foam and then place a lid on one – knowing that the Doctor had aversion to milk froth in his mustache. The Agent turned to him with a subtle, yet dazzling smile as he handed over the lidded cup. 

“Your latte, Doctor,” he said, before picking up his own cup and taking a sip. 

Robotnik watched, trying to appear unaware of what was happening. His stomach dropped when Stone’s tongue darted out to swipe a little cloud of froth from his upper lip. He nearly had a cardiac event when Stone raised his eyes to look at him after that little action. 

“What did you need me for?” Stone asked. 

“Come by the lab after your coffee,” he managed, buying himself some time, “Nothing more urgent than an afternoon latte.” 

“Okay, will do. I’m gonna clean up here first,” Stone said, turning his head back to the counter, “Can’t make milk foam without a little splattering. Always kind of ends up everywhere. I’ll be in the lab in fifteen?” 

Stone’s eyes implored him innocently.

"Take your time," he said stiffly, before reiterating, "Not urgent."

Robotnik nodded curtly once before turning in what he could only imagine was a superfluously dramatic flutter of his coat, and rushing back to the lab, heart thundering in his ears, cheeks feeling hot. 

Now, he gripped his glass a little tighter, hearing the ice cubes rattle. 

“This is out of control,” he said, pacing out of his kitchen. 

He proceeded to pace around the lounge, taking small drinks of bourbon between gesturing his other hand in the air. He knew. He knew that almost everything that had occurred in the kitchen area would be twisted into one of his fantasy scenarios. He just knew it would. 

_Splattering_ _._

The word replayed itself in his head and he cringed, reviled as he felt his shoulders involuntarily roll forward. He could stop it, of course, stop it from happening. He could, but deep down, he knew he wouldn’t. 

And that wasn’t the only incident. They were cropping up with almost-alarming frequency these days. 

“Oh, that’s tight,” Stone said, squeezing between two racks in the server room. 

“I’m soaked,” Stone lamented, coming in from the rain, shaking the droplets out of his short hair. 

“Doctor, that’s _incredible_ ,” Stone breathed, beholding one of his latest inventions. 

“Wait,” Stone said happily following after him, eager to assist with the boxes he was carrying, “Won’t you let me help you with that?” 

“Fuck!” Robotnik growled, frustrated, reeling around to pace in the opposite direction. 

He was _making_ Stone his plaything, and Stone didn’t even know it. It was not normal, it was not healthy, and worst of all, it was not consensual. The discomfort Robotnik felt all over only grew as he considered that last detail. 

Stone was the only person he could tolerate. The only person he would willfully choose to be around. The only person he had a soft spot for. He’d even go as far as to say that he had feel- 

“Stop _right_ there!” he said aloud to himself, taking a burning swig of bourbon. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to go any further, not with the topic at hand looming in his mind. 

He was taking advantage of Stone. Using him. It was positively vile. Stone had no idea he was being tailed at every moment, Robotnik’s tech picking and saving bits and pieces of him to integrate into the perfect fucktoy. 

_You don’t deserve him_ , Robotnik’s mind said resolutely, _You don’t deserve him in any capacity, you filthy old bastard._

The moral implications were worse than those of cloning. He was using Stone’s synthesized likeness without permission to get off, to paw at himself, to fuck into his stroker, to spread his legs and take a silicone cock, all the while Stone performing for him beyond his visor. And poor Agent Stone was none the wiser. 

It was sick. It was sick and it was wrong. 

Robotnik sat down heavily on the sofa again, downing the rest of his drink and roughly setting his glass on the sidetable. He was utterly disgusted with himself. 

_You’re a fucking loser. Stone would never be interested in someone as pathetic as you_ , he thought, _Worse! You’re a monster! If Stone knew what you were doing, he’d report you in a heartbeat. It would cost you everything._

He covered his eyes with one gloved hand, trying to shield himself from the onslaught. 

He knew deep down that if Stone did somehow find out all the sordid details of what went on in the VR lab, he'd be too mortified to commit them to a formal government complaint. Yes, Robotnik would come out of it professionally unscathed, but with a mortal emotional wound to try and tend. He would be lost without Agent Stone. 

_And for what? A cheap coward’s fuck with an imaginary partner? Getting your undeserving rocks off with a machine? All so you can lay on your back and take it from someone who would never give you the time of day if he wasn’t paid to. You’re disgusting._

Again, he heaved himself up off the sofa, any stillness short-lived in his current state. He couldn’t bear to be still when his mind was this agitated, racing this fast. He surged up and looped around the lounge once more before stalking off to the bathroom. He needed a visual to take his frustration out on, and he knew just the one. Nothing synthesized or simulated tonight. Oh, no. He needed something very real. 

Doctor Robotnik took a long look at himself in the bathroom mirror – staring into the unhappy eyes of his own miserable reflection. The lighting was harsh, washing him out. He stared at his pallid visage, the dark circles, the crow’s feet, the silvery stubble along his harsh jawline. 

He was looking into the face of a man tormented by his own actions, and he did not like it. He liked to consider himself beyond the reach of something as pedestrian as a guilty conscience, but that simply was not true. 

“You, _mister_ ,” he said, leveling his bony finger at his reflection, “Are a disgusting, unethical pervert.” 

“Mister,” of course, being a wounding slight to a man with five PhDs under his belt, and a slew of unintelligible initialisms after his surname. 

Robotnik braced both hands on the bathroom counter, bowing his head, ducking away from his reflected face. He shook his head and turned on the sink, splashing his face with cold water, sucking in a hissing breath. It was bracing and unpleasant, but he needed clarity. 

“What you’ve done should be unconscionable,” he said, looking back at himself, water dripping down his neck. 

He often thought of Mary Shelley, of Doctor Frankenstein and his creature, of a scientist and his creation... Except old Victor never fucked the creature, now did he? Robotnik had created something, a facsimile of a living person, a chillingly real doppelganger that behaved according to his own secret erotic whims. He’d practically breathed life into the simulation of his assistant rather than face his feelings on the matter. 

He occasionally considered the tale of Percy Shelley, too, who met his demise mysteriously at sea after meeting his double. He felt he himself deserved a much worse fate than that. He wondered if Stone’s double would kill him someday, choke him to death accidentally or not. 

He shivered deeply at the thought. He was truly living in his own self-curated horror story, a nightmare of his own careful creation. 

A vision of his assistant flashed before his mind. The real Agent Stone. Another wave of shame slammed into him, dragging him into its strong undertow. He could practically envision the guilt burning a hole through his gut, all sizzling and green. 

“He’d never,” Robotnik said, looking at his own reflection, “ _Never_ be interested in you. Get it together. Don't be an idiot. God, if he ever found out about what you – ugh – get up to in your spare time...” 

His skin crawled at the sight of himself. He immediately disrobed, tossing everything but his belt, watch, and shoes into the laundry chute before turning on the hot water. The thought of those clothes touching him turned his stomach. They needed to be scoured. 

_Filthy_ , he thought, nails reflexively scratching against one pale shoulder, _Revolting. I need a fucking shower._

Robotnik stepped under the burning spray and immediately started soaping his arms and chest, shaking the wet hair out of his face, doing his damnedest to scrub away the unpleasant, sticky feeling of guilt all over him. No matter how hot the water, it wouldn't stop his skin from crawling. 

“What you _should_ do,” he said, shampooing his hair roughly, “is dismantle the VR lab. Scorched earth. Completely raze it. Never think of it again. Destroy the programming and lock the memory away forever. Better yet, just wipe the memory from _your_ hard drive.” 

He rinsed, head tilted back, feeling the hot water running down his face and neck. 

“But you won’t,” he said toothily, “You’ll keep it. You’ll keep using it. You’ll keep jerking off to your synthesized assistant. Disgusting. Pathetic.” 

He grabbed the soap again, gripping it resolutely to scrub his pubic hair, to try and wash away his perceived sins. 

“Stone deserves so much better than _this_ ,” he said with disgust, looking down at his bony, bare body and soft cock. 

He chose not to linger in the shower, shutting off the water and immediately scouring himself dry with a soft, thick black towel. 

“Were this a thorny shroud,” he said wryly, feeling it catch on his stubble. 

Once sufficiently dry, he took one final glance at himself in the mirror. His chest was pink form the heat of his shower and the intensity of his scrubbing, hair slick, mustache droopy. He scowled at his reflection and leveled a finger at his countenance in the mirror, ready to read himself the riot act again. 

As quickly as the wave of ire rolled over him, it receded. He let his wrist go limp and looked away from the mirror quickly. With an exhausted sigh, he let his shoulders sag and switched off the light, heading off to the bedroom, too tired to persecute himself further. 

He dressed hastily in a thin long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, currently unable to countenance his own naked form, vaguely horrified by it. He pulled the nondescript black garments on, looking down at himself as little as humanly possible. 

The Doctor next threw himself into bed without getting under the sheets, haphazardly pulling them around himself instead. Anger giving way to self-loathing, self-loathing back to emptiness. He rolled into his side, one arm held tightly across his chest, sheets up to his neck. 

With all the fire and fury gone, all that was left was something else - sadness, loneliness. 

Doctor Robotnik knew what to do with rage and fury, how to smelt them in the fire and turn them into something that was if not good, at least productive. He hadn’t yet learned how to anneal these other feelings, how to make them useful, and he did so dislike things that weren’t useful. 

The acid angry guilt in his stomach turned to leaden, cold sadness, worse yet, into self-pity, something he despised. Though the sorrowful thought of his poor unwitting Agent was still floating around in his mind, now thoughts of himself had entered the equation. 

He groaned and pulled the sheets more tightly around his body. 

_This is your life_ , he thought, _You’re_ _going to spend the rest of your miserable, solitary life fucking a machine, all your pleasure fleeting from the guilt eating you up inside, and you know what? You fucking deserve it._

Instead of a groan, his next sound was a shaky sigh. 

_You’ll die alone and uncared for, just as you always predicted_ , he thought mercilessly, his own voice echoing in his mind, _Because_ _you’ve systematically pushed everyone away through your abhorrent behavior, even and especially the one person who is kind to you. You treat him worse than the rest._

A few years ago, he would’ve regarded dying alone and uncared for as an eventually, and he would’ve faced the notion pragmatically and without emotionless. But something had changed that. 

He thought of Stone, warm, wonderful Stone, and shook his head fractionally, closing his eyes. 

_And he is only kind to you because it pays the bills, don’t you forget_ , he thought, _It’s the money that keeps him around. Why else would he elect to be around you five of the seven, hm? For your sparkling personality? Make no mistake. Nobody is stupid enough to willingly waste their time with you, least of all him. He puts up a good act, but couldn’t possibly care about you._

Then, all at once, he felt it. The terrible, telltale stinging at the corners of his eyes. 

“Don’t!” he said, sharply, but not loudly, one hand erupting from his blanket cocoon to pinch the bridge of his nose painfully. 

When that didn’t help, he clamped that hand tightly over both eyes, plunging himself deeper into the darkness of his mind. He set his jaw stubbornly, resolutely refusing to feel what was trying to rise to the surface within him. 

On any given day of the week, at any given hour, the Doctor would much prefer to be angry than sad. 

Sadness, though, and loneliness, seemed his inexorable companions tonight. His bed was so large. His sheets were so cold. His quarters were so claustrophobically empty. Most nights, he was utterly unperturbed by his solitary lifestyle, but when the loneliness hit him, it hit hard. 

With a broken snarl, Robotnik sharply sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, baring his shoulders to the coldness of the room. He put his bare feet on the floor, his knobby elbows on his knees, slouching to rest his face in his hands. 

Though the portentous stinging sensation in his eyes had abated, he felt no relief. It was replaced by that cold, arid emptiness that he felt in his chest, like a winter wind whistling through his rib cage. 

_The closest thing you’ll ever have_ , he thought to himself bitterly, _is a simulation. A hollow, insubstantial excuse for a human. Just like you._

He thought about getting up and pacing, maybe making himself another drink, maybe even throwing on a jacket and slippers and going for a drive. He thought of a lot of things, but he simply couldn’t make himself get up. 

As much as he wanted to pace or drink or drive away from these feelings, he knew it wasn’t a productive response. He lifted his head slowly and let himself fall backward into the mattress, feet still planted on the floor. He stared up at the ceiling in the dark, arms outstretched at his sides where they’d fallen. He still had an uncomfortable tightness in his throat, felt an unseen weight pressing down on his body. 

With closed eyes and a very deep breath, Robotnik worked hard to quiet his own sharp tongue in his mind. It faded away still uttering nasty remarks. He didn’t open his eyes until it was silent. His periphery faded away, staring straight up at the ceiling. He allowed himself to feel without thought. 

He felt cold. He felt empty. He felt pain, but not of the physical body. He felt absolutely terrible. 

It could easily be said that as unkind as he could be to others, the Doctor was always the most unkind to himself. 

His thoughts kept trying to break their way in, but Robotnik stood firm. He focused on the rolling waves of emotion, trying to process them without logic, without thought. It was very difficult for him. While he didn’t find sadness to be productive, he knew it was decidedly unproductive and not in his best interests to ignore it. 

Finally, a long time later, his eyelids started to get heavy. He wanted to sit up, to get under the blankets, but he simply couldn’t will himself to move. Moving meant waking, and waking, in this moment, meant despair. He was too frightened to even cross his arms over his chest or pull his legs up onto the bed. He was so close to sleep. He couldn’t risk it. 

Robotnik continued to lay very still, eyes closed, focusing on his breath and nothing else, accepting the weight of loneliness that had settled on his body. He was out of energy. He waited for sleep to come, thinking that perhaps it was near. 

And it was, until he heard a little voice in his mind. 

Robotnik's eyes snapped open abruptly. Of course the thing he’d been actively trying to block out reared its unsettling head right as he was about to slip into a fitful doze. The event in question, preparing itself to play frame-by-frame in his head, had happened only the day before. 

“Now, this is dangerous work, you understand,” Robotnik said. 

“Yes, Doctor,” Stone replied calmly, positively. 

They were in the hangar and Robotnik needed his help in welding two things together. 

“The slightest wrong move, the barest flinch will result in harm to you or me or the machine,” he pressed on, trying to really hammer home the urgency of it all. 

It was not, perhaps, as dire as he was suggesting. He just wanted to make sure that it went perfectly and that nothing went wrong. 

“I understand,” Stone said. 

“You run the risk of-” he’d said, suddenly cut off by the slightest brush of Stone’s fingers on his sleeve, signaling him to stop. 

“Doctor, don’t worry,” Stone said, looking at him with that damned sincere expression, the one he couldn’t resist, “I trust you.” 

Robotnik’s hands were shaking so badly that he’d come up with an excuse on the fly, ceasing the welding that was about to take place. He dismissed Stone back to his office and swiped a command to lock the lab doors behind him after he left to ensure his privacy. 

It was the most awful, hurtful thing Stone had ever said to him, and the poor Agent had no idea. 

Flat on his back, he finally summoned the strength to lift both hands and cover his face in shame. Stone _trusted_ him, and he was taking advantage of him, violating him at every moment. 

As soon as Stone was back in his office, Robotnik immediately removed “I trust you” from the VR programming, making sure that never popped up in one of his late-night rendezvous. He simply couldn’t take the idea of it. 

This whole event had caused his terrible mood today, and his refusal to go to the VR lab tonight. 

_If you can remove that, the sole declaration of trust_ , he thought to himself, _why not just erase the whole thing? Terminate the data collection protocol. Give him a reason to trust you._

He thought of Stone’s earnest expression again, of his big, honest eyes and subtle smile, the faintest tilt of the head to accentuate the whole thing. Robotnik was suddenly feeling rather sick to his stomach. 

_You can pull “I trust you,” but you elect to leave in “splatter,”_ he scolded himself, _absolutely_ _depraved._

He was fairly certain he’d never been so disappointed in himself. Never had a miscalculation or failure ever hurt him so. 

_I’m actively betraying him_ , Robotnik thought, eyes still covered by his hands, _every minute of every day._

Again, a cold, fearful, sickening feeling began making his chest tighten. He had to do something. He sat up quickly, ignoring the dizziness he felt. He pushed himself up and staggered out to the lab in a near-frenzy state, bare feet stinging on the cold floor, the sudden brightness hurting his eyes. 

He pulled on his gloves in a daze. He hardly realized he was doing it, only registering that his hands were shaking madly. 

A sharp panic gripped him as he pulled up the program that ran in the VR lab. His eyes scanned over the lines of code, feeling his heart racing, eyes flicking fast over the commands and dialogue prompts. He selected everything with trembling hands and then hovered over the delete key. 

_Just one keystroke_ , he thought, _Just_ _one button_ _press_ _and you’ll be free of it. Free from the guilt. From the shame. C’mon, coward. Do it._

He hesitated, finding it difficult to swallow. His eyes felt raw, looking at the data. He was so cold, his muscles too strained. 

_Do it!_

His finger rested feather-light on the delete key, heart thumping almost painfully in his addled rib cage. His thoughts raged incoherent over his hoarse breathing. 

_Do it, coward!_

He swallowed hard, ignoring the strangled sound that slipped out as he did. His hand faltered. 

_I can’t._

He de-selected everything. 

_Do it!_

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. 

He couldn’t do it. 

He couldn’t destroy his fantasy facsimile of his assistant. He simply couldn’t do it. It felt like murder. A loud, frustrated growl broke from his throat as he closed the program with one hand and swiped everything within reach off of his console with the other, sending it all clattering to the floor. 

“I can’t fucking do it!” he shouted as he collapsed on the desk, forehead against the cold metal, one arm bent at the elbow to shield his face, the other clenched in a shaking fist. 

With his unclenched fist, he moved a finger slightly to dim the lights in the lab. He didn’t want his machines to see him like this. 

“I can’t do it,” he repeated softly, despising the weakness in his voice. 

He stayed there a long time, hunched over his desk, face against the tabletop, bare feet perched on the wheels of his chair, up off of the freezing floor. He couldn’t reconcile the moral implications of his creation, but couldn’t destroy him. He covered his face in shame, not wanting acknowledge his own existence in the moment. 

He could often unplug from his consciousness for brief moments, needing the periodic disconnect from his perpetually busy mind. He couldn’t do it just then, no matter how badly he wanted it. His mind was a painful echo chamber, hateful self-talk bouncing around, bruising him, making him recoil slightly every so often. 

Over an hour had passed by the time he pushed himself up weakly from the console. The Doctor unsteadily took to his feet and walked back into his quarters, the lights turning off as he pulled off his gloves and let them fall to the floor. 

He paused in the lounge, bedroom to the left, kitchen to the right. His eye caught the glint of his liquor bottles in the distance, but he shook his head. 

_Don’t cope with drink_ , he commanded himself, _Just let yourself feel it_. 

He turned to the left and walked slowly to his darkened bedroom. He laid directly in the center of his big empty bed, on top of the sheets, arms crossed over his chest in an “x” shape. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. 

He thought he was tired before. Now, he was _exhausted_. He felt completely, despairingly empty. It was almost a relief, to feel nothing but a hollowness, an emptiness like the wind blowing through him. His mind was quiet, almost alarmingly so. 

“I’m sorry, Stone,” he whispered in the cool dark, “You can’t trust me.” 

He’d keep the lab locked tomorrow. He’d ignore Stone completely. Maybe he’d set an away message for him tomorrow morning so he wouldn’t worry. It wouldn’t be entirely out of the ordinary. He’d shut him out before. He could claim a migraine, a top-secret deadline, Stone would believe him. 

Because he trusted him. 

A terrible chill ran through him at the thought. 

After all, what’s another little lie when you’ve already completely violated someone’s basic human rights? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends,  
> We'll have something more lighthearted next time, but until then, I hope you enjoyed(?) this little angst-filled chapter. Let's face it - the Doctor done a bad thing.   
> I'll try and make up for the angst soon! Chapter four is already working - I hope to have it up next weekend.  
> I hope you are all holding up well, and that you have a good week!
> 
> Sordidly yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta


	4. Confessions and Demonstrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Agent Stone makes an appearance!  
> We've jumped forward in time a bit for this chapter. Robotnik and Stone are an item, but they're having a little trouble in the intimacy department. Perhaps it has something to do with the Doctor's secret VR lab?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends,  
> A little later than I wanted to get this one up, as I was generally Not Feeling It (TM) this week, but I think we're back in the swing of things.  
> In this chapter, we finally get to see our beloved Agent Stone in the flesh! There is a confession, there are feelings, and there IS sex in this chapter. It's gotten a little long and unwieldy, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.  
> By the way, I popped my head up and suddenly had a TON of comments and kudos?? I'm not sure if it's chance or what, but it certainly brightened up my mood tremendously. I'm totally overwhelmed (in the best way) by the kind words and support, and will start replying within the next day or two. You folks really know how to make my day - I cannot state it strongly enough. Thank you all so much! It seriously means so much. 
> 
> Sordidly yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta

Agent Stone was at an impasse. 

Everything had been going so well since he and Doctor Robotnik had gotten together. Well, not _everything._ Almost everything. They’d been seeing each other for a few months now. It had happened suddenly and unexpectedly, as things often did with Doctor Robotnik. Stone was still reeling a bit from their quick progression from colleagues to - boyfriends? Lovers? They hadn't exactly put a term to it yet, but they were exclusively romantically involved. 

It all started when Stone popped in at about nine-thirty one night with a bag of takeout Chinese food. 

“Stone, I told you to go home hours ago,” Robotnik said, a little wearily, hunched over the console, “You shouldn’t stay late on a Friday because I’m running behind.” 

He turned in his chair and the Agent could clearly tell he was fatigued from work, and likely lack of food. 

“I did go home,” Stone said casually, “For a little bit. I decided to come back.” 

“Why on earth would you do that?” Robotnik asked, still not fully comprehending. 

“Someone’s gotta look after you,” he replied honestly, pulling up a chair and unpacking the plastic containers on the console, "Got time for a dinner break?" 

Robotnik shook his head and rested his sharp jaw on the edge of his hand, elbow propped on the edge of the table. Stone laid everything out, rejoicing internally that his boss had momentarily thought that he'd never left the office. Robotnik had eased off quite a bit with his intense surveillance, seeming to trust his assistant a bit more these days. 

He heard Robotnik's stomach growl as he started to open containers. Just as he'd suspected - the man could build things beyond the imagination but couldn't manage to fit in regular meal breaks. 

“You’ve got to stop this,” he said to Stone a moment later, as they settled in for their meal.

He staring into the plastic container of wonton soup in his hands, a favorite of his, something Stone knew all to well. The soup was pleasantly warm, heat leaching through his gloves in the perpetually cold and arid lab. The smell was enticing - everything smelled better when you were hungry. He could smell the Agent's faint cologne, too. 

“What?” Stone asked with a little laugh, “Why?” 

“Because frankly, Agent, you’ve spoiled me into thinking someone actually cares about me,” he said with a noncommittal shrug and a short, biting laugh, “Caring leads to complacency.” 

“Maybe I do,” Stone replied casually, or at least trying to sound that way. 

“What?” Robotnik asked flatly, turning toward him. 

Stone leaned over and fished a dumpling out of the soup container in the Doctor’s hands, blowing on the plastic spoon before putting it in his mouth. He held his bewildered gaze easily as he chewed and swallowed. He was choosing his next words carefully. 

“Of course I care about you,” Stone said, “Are you kidding me? You’re just now putting this together? I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something.” 

They’d grown more informal over time, sometimes lapsing into easy conversation. He figured he could get away with it. Stone found that Robotnik seemed to respond well to his sense of humor, and he often used it to diffuse tense situations and conversations these days. If there was a time for his disarming humor, it was now. 

Robotnik swiftly set down the container of soup and grabbed him by the wrist with a gloved hand. Stone felt for a moment that his humor had backfired when the Doctor pulled him forward, looking down at him with a severe expression, teeth faintly bared. 

“You ought to be more careful who you care about,” he said stiffly, in a way that made the Agent’s hair stand on end. 

Stone was not one to be deterred, however. He had perhaps initially misread the odd electricity that crackled between them in that moment as an angry one. Now that he looked more closely, he didn’t see anger in Robotnik’s eyes. He reached out and took a slow, firm hold of him by the forearm, the one that held his wrist so tightly. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Stone?” Robotnik asked, a thin veil of intensity just barely concealing the unsureness of his voice. 

“Showing you that I care about you,” Stone said, leaning forward, pressing their foreheads together, “They say actions speak louder than words, right?” 

He loosed his wrist from the Doctor’s grip and entwined their fingers. Robotnik’s fingers spasmed before closing between his loosely, tentatively. Stone hadn't planned to confess his feelings to his boss tonight, but the way things were going, now seemed as good a time as ever. He saw the looks his boss gave him, felt that unmistakable twinge of mutual pining between them when they parted ways, felt something that felt distinctly like sexual tension. 

“I’m hearing you loud and clear,” Robotnik replied, voice quiet bordering on awed, “I just don’t believe it.” 

“Believe it,” Stone said, nose-to-nose now. 

“Agent, you couldn’t possibly mean-” he began. 

“Oh, but I do,” Stone replied, tone a bit lower. 

“I-I don’t understand,” Robotnik said, nearly at a loss for words. 

“Let me explain it in a different way,” Stone said, almost amused by the Doctor’s flabbergasted look. 

He closed the distance between them in a kiss, during which Robotnik’s fingers held his hand in a bone-crushing grip. It was a brief kiss, testing the waters. When Stone pulled back slowly, the Doctor’s eyes blinked open, still shocked. They stared at one another for a long moment before Robotnik lunged forward, sending his chair careening off behind him, cupping Stone’s face and kissing him fervently. 

Things had progressed mostly-smoothly from there, barring a few miscommunications on both sides, and a few anxious breakdowns on Robotnik’s part. It was clear to Stone that he didn’t have much relationship experience, but he was trying, and was proving to be a quick learner. He was affectionate, courteous, and lived to please him. Stone, of course, reciprocated just as strongly. 

The main problem between them, oddly not to Stone’s surprise, was sex. Robotnik behaved in ways that he couldn’t quite figure out, despite his excellent intuition. He’d had a feeling that sex with the Doctor would be weird, but more “restraints and costumes” weird and less “makes you go hmm” weird. Doctor Robotnik had difficulty with two things: penetrative sex and achieving orgasm. Now, Agent Stone was a patient person. He’d tried waiting it out, but waiting it out wasn’t working. He’d realized that there was likely only one dreaded way to solve this – actually talking about it. 

Their most recent encounter had gone thusly: Doctor Robotnik had undressed him completely, given Stone a fantastic blowjob, swallowed, and then laid down in bed next to him, fully clothed. When Stone had asked if he could do anything for him, his answer was the usual. 

“No, no, I’m fine.” 

“Surely there must be something -” Stone pressed, reaching over, “I can do for you, too.” 

When his hand grazed Robotnik’s clothed erection, he flinched away very suddenly. 

“Stone, I can assure you that I’m fine,” he said stiffly, but without anger. 

After that, they'd always lapse into easy cuddling, Robotnik curling against him, holding him, nuzzling his face into his neck. Though there were clearly no hard feelings, Stone couldn't help but feel guilty for the lack of reciprocity, even though the Doctor seemed perfectly okay with it, encouraging it, even. 

Stone knew he could get hard. He’d given him a few abortive hand jobs and blow jobs, with Robotnik fully consenting, getting very into it and then suddenly pulling away, usually with a shaky laugh. 

“THAT’S enough,” he would say unevenly, hand pressed to his chest to help him catch his breath, drawing away from Stone. 

He always appeared to be accepting of the outcome, despite the fact that he never reached orgasm. He was happy to please Stone, content to remain untouched, or just played with for a few moments. He drew the lines of his comfort zone very clearly, and Stone was always careful to listen and respect them. Robotnik returned kisses and other gestures of affection, enjoying nothing more than curling up with Stone after a long day's work, having his head in his lap, holding his hand. There was just something about sexual intimacy that he was hung up about. 

Stone had tried to top him once, and Robotnik was fully on board, until a few pumps in. 

“Wait!” he’d gasped, pulling away on all fours, looking over his shoulder at him with an unusual smile, “Why don’t we – uh – why don’t we try something else? I'm... I'm not quite there yet.”

"Sure," Stone replied, pulling out slowly, "Of course. We'll do something else." 

Stone always went along with it willingly, figuring the problem would iron itself out in time, figuring they’d get closer and the nerves (or whatever it was) would just fade away. He’d tried to talk about it, but dropped it once things got unbearably uncomfortable. But something just wasn’t adding up, and Stone was going to get to the bottom of it. 

The next time they were at Stone’s condo, in his bedroom, he broached the subject again. 

He was on top of Robotnik, kissing him, every gesture being returned enthusiastically. 

“Doctor,” he said questioningly. 

“Mmhmm?” he hummed in response. 

“What’s going on?" Stone asked, voice soft.

"Kissing you," he replied, hands trailing down his back. 

"Don't you want to do more?" Stone asked, still playfully kissing him, "Don't you want to fuck me?" 

He realized it wasn’t the best time, but it had just sort of slipped out, and there was no taking it back. He'd meant for it to be some sort of teasing dirty talk to entice him, not something he might see as a pointed attack. 

“Stoneee,” Robotnik groaned, already starting to push him away, hands on his chest. 

It was too late to take back, so he tried to lighten the mood instead, nipping along the Doctor’s stubbly jaw. 

“Or we can watch a movie," he offered genuinely, "Forget I said that - I don't know where that came from."

Robotnik took him by the shoulders and pushed him away slowly. He was averting his eyes, mouth drawn in a tense line. Stone tried not to look worried, sitting on his lap and planting both hands lightly on his clothed chest. 

“I was going to have to tell you eventually, I suppose,” Robotnik said with a sigh. 

“What, babe?” Stone asked, smiling reassuringly at him. 

Robotnik heaved a deep sigh and continued to look away. 

“I... Haven’t been entirely honest with you,” he said with difficulty. 

He was certain his soul (if he had one) would leave his body if he looked at Stone right now. Either that, or he’d vomit straight away. Regardless, he couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze. His stomach churned nervously, feeling as though he were staring down that inevitable lonely fate he'd often laid awake thinking about late in the night. 

“Oh?” Stone asked, not a hint of anger. 

Robotnik looked up at his curious, understanding look and sighed. His gentleness, his utter lack of anger, his patience with him made this even more painful. Robotnik took him by the wrists and moved his hands off his chest. He squirmed his way out from under Stone and sat cross-legged by the pillows. 

“It’s major,” Robotnik insisted, trying not to under-sell it, “I’m not even sure how to go about telling you.” 

Stone was genuinely curious about what it could be, thinking it would put an end to the mystery, and possibly open up some new avenues to work with. Of course, there was a sneaking dread, but he pushed it down, trying to maintain a level head. Was it anatomical? Psychological? Emotional? It could be anything. 

He didn’t in a million years think the problem would be mechanical. 

“Doctor, whatever it is, you know I won’t be upset,” he offered, feeling his partner’s immense discomfort. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Robotnik added, tensing his jaw. 

“Just tell me then,” Stone said, putting his hand on his knee, “You’ll feel better after.” 

Again, his kindly nature wounded the Doctor. He couldn't believe he was about to confess the terrible secret that had been plaguing him for so long. Maybe the Agent was right. Maybe he would feel better after. However, maybe he'd also find himself single and without an assistant. 

“I-” Robotnik started, taking a deep breath, “Oh, god. This is terrible.” 

“Doctor, you’re _killing_ me,” Stone said with a tense little laugh, acidic nervousness beginning to rise in the back of his throat. 

“Stone. I’m going to give it to you straight. I’ve been fucking a simulated version of you in my VR lab,” he said, sharply turning his head away. 

He winced when Stone’s hand suddenly left his knee. His words hung in the air for a moment, cold and heavy like a choking miasma, ringing like a struck bell, reverberating through the suddenly-tense atmosphere. 

“You _what?_ ” Stone asked, floored. 

That wasn't in the realm of possibility of what he thought he'd hear tonight. Not even close. 

“It’s exactly what it sounds like, I’m afraid,” Robotnik said, scooting a little further away, “And it’s revolting. And I’ve been guilt-ridden. I have been for a long time. You have every right to be-” 

“You fucking _what?_ ” Stone asked again, starting to sound heated, “You made a doppelganger of me and - and you fucked it?” 

“Yes, a long time ago!” Robotnik snapped, realizing that likely wasn’t the right response. 

Now he was panicking. Stone was upset. Robotnik was floundering. Though the Agent's calmness had initially made him uncomfortable in the face of his own lie, he would've given anything to have it back now. 

“How long?” Stone asked after a deep, steadying breath. 

“That’s immaterial,” Robotnik said, logical voice taking over, “What’s important is-” 

“ _Tell_ me,” Stone cut him off, chastening him, “How long.”

He knew there was no fighting it. 

“Over a year,” Robotnik confessed, shoulders hunched, looking up at him, shamefaced. 

He saw no point in avoiding it now. 

“A year?!” Stone asked loudly, shocked. 

“Well, not exactly. Closer to two,” Robotnik amended, figuring he may as well be completely honest while he was at it. 

“The fuck?!” Stone barked, one hand raised to his own throat in shock, "I can't _believe_ you!"

“Stone, I was lonely! And a pathetic fucking coward! A complete amoral madman! I never thought you’d be interested in me and-” he said, his shot nerves clearly audible in his voice. 

“So, so you just made an android and fucked it?” Stone asked, voice rising, too, "Doctor, _why?!_ " 

Robotnik saw that he was buttoning up his half-open shirt, never a good sign. He felt it coming. He was about to be thrown out. Possibly never to be spoken to again. 

“No! No, no, no,” he tried to soothe, “It’s not an android. It’s more of a virtual reality simulation. See it's very much like a-” 

“Not important!” Stone snapped, trying to reign him in, “What the _fuck_ , Doctor?” 

“I apologize,” he replied, trying to hold fast to the last shreds of his calmness, “I don’t expect you to accept it. It’s a complete and total violation of everything that’s decent. It’s an abuse of power. It’s completely and utterly perverse. There’s no excuse for it, and I am terribly sorry.” 

He looked up at Stone, who was looking away from him, knuckles pressed thoughtfully to his lower lip. He had a bad feeling, a sinking one in his gut that this wouldn’t end well. 

“So, you’re too busy fucking a machine to fuck me?” Stone asked harshly, though his face was sad, “Why even bother with the real thing, Doctor? Just fuck your machine. Knowing your work, it probably does a great job.” 

His gaze was positively cutting, Robotnik visibly flinching on the receiving end of it. He moved quickly, taking hold of Stone by his biceps. He held Stone’s gaze with his own, pitiful and repentant. He could see that Stone was hurt, the feeling going straight to his heart. 

“No, no, it’s not like that,” he said, guilt filling his throat, choking him, “I’ve - the – Stone, the guilt has been eating me alive. I'm sick over it. I - I - I -” 

Despite not wanting to, Stone saw the sincerity in his eyes, and an unfamiliar wateriness at the corners. He was willing to listen, momentarily looking past his own hurt and into Robotnik's. 

“I haven’t fraternized with it since we got together. There are usage logs. If you want to see them, I'll show you. I... I haven’t been able to be intimate with you because I feel so fucking guilty. Positively shamefaced. Because I felt, no, _I know_ that I betrayed you. I don’t deserve you, for many reasons, but most of all, this one,” he said, lowering his head, still holding tightly to Stone’s upper arms, “And obviously I didn’t know how to bring it up. I thought the problem would just... Fix itself, but the closer I got to you, the worse I felt about it. I'm so fucking sorry, Stone.” 

Stone watched him, noting his frightened, stressed body language, how his voice shook toward the end of his last statement, bowing his head in earnest supplication. 

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Robotnik confessed, stinging at the corners of his eyes. 

Stone, still shocked and upset, utterly floored, registered that his partner's feelings were genuine. He took a deep breath and slightly changed his approach to a more productive one. He could lash out or hold a grudge all he wanted, but that wouldn't accomplish anything. He took hold of the Doctor by his shoulders, encouraging him to look back at him. 

“I need time to think about this,” Stone said honestly. 

“Rightly so,” Robotnik replied logically, still not looking at him. 

He was sure Stone would ditch him completely, that he’d somehow never see him again. He'd thought about it so long that it seemed an inevitability at this point. He was ready to accept his solitary fate. Stone used one hand to lift his head, crooking a finger under his chin. 

“Listen, I’m upset. It’s... a lot to think about,” he said, gently but seriously, “I’m not going to leave you. I just need some time to think about it. I’d like to talk about it more, but not right now. We're both upset and I think we should take some time to collect ourselves first.” 

“Thank you, Stone,” Robotnik said, grateful for his immense understanding, but feeling too guilty to be around him much longer tonight, "I think I should go." 

“That’s fair. I'd like to be alone a while, too,” Stone said, voice calm. 

Robotnik nodded and got out of bed, putting his shoes and coat back on. At the door, Stone hugged him, and he hugged back fiercely. Deep inside, he still felt like this would all fall apart before his eyes, that Stone would change his mind and freeze him out completely, that this would be the last time he saw him. Before drawing away, he spoke quietly. 

“I’m so sorry, Stone,” he said, “I’m - I’m fucking monstrous and you-” 

Here the Agent pulled back and placed a finger to his lips, silencing him. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Stone replied, "Call me before bed, or sooner."

They drew apart, still holding hands. Robotnik nodded somberly, surprised to receive a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. He drove back to the lab posthaste and immediately laid face-down on his bed, considering the ramifications of his actions, as he had so many nights before. 

“You’ve ruined it,” he said to himself, muffled by his pillow, “Just like you always knew you would.” 

He covered the back of his head with his hands, trying to disappear into the mattress. Admittedly, he felt a little relief, having the truth come to light. While the weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying on his shoulders had lifted, his stomach was now in knots. Making matters worse, a memory from a few months back filtered into his mind, creeping intrusively to the forefront. 

The last time he'd been to the VR lab was a few weeks after he and Stone had begun their relationship. He'd made some tweaks and put on his headset, Stone appearing in front of him in his usual office dress - a black suit, shirt, and tie. Robotnik was fully dressed, too, wringing his hands nervously and pacing around the space. He attempted several confessions to the simulation of his assistant, the latter responding with sweet head tilts and confused replies.

_Doctor, I don't get it._

_I'm not following._

_I'm afraid I don't understand, Doctor._

Finally, when it was clear that they'd run out of dialogue prompts that were even remotely suitable, a red error message flashed in front of the Doctor's eyes. With great frustration, he yanked off the headset, commanding the automated door to slam behind him as he left. He hadn't gone back to the VR lab since. 

His face burned at the memory as he burrowed deeper into his pillow before turning onto his back, pillow clutched to his chest. He glanced over at the unlit screen of his phone and then down at his watch. Though he looked forward to it with trepidation, that bedtime call couldn't come soon enough. Deep down, he was worried that given the time to think it over, Stone would have a change of heart and break things off. 

Meanwhile, Stone was propped up on his sofa, arms crossed over his chest, staring up at the ceiling. It was a lot to process. He was turning it over in his head from every possible angle. The whole thing gave him a cold, creepy feeling, made his skin crawl. He determined eventually that while this would’ve been a deal-breaker for anyone else, it was not a deal-breaker for him and the Doctor. It was just so bizarre, like something straight out of a science fiction movie.

Was he shocked? Yes. 

Vaguely horrified? Yes. 

Did he sort of understand it? Kinda. 

Was it oddly flattering in a perverse sort of way? A little. 

Was he mad at Robotnik? Yes, but he knew it would pass once he had some more information. 

Robotnik was weird, by the standards of most, and he was lonely, and that was something Stone had known for years. Along those lines, things started to make sense as he delved deeper into it. 

Stone realized he could’ve looked at it as “a year we could’ve been together wasted,” but that wasn’t entirely true or fair. He hadn’t confessed to him either in that time, and frankly, he was masturbating and thinking of the Doctor, too. He had a dildo and a nice nubby stroker, and if he’d had the means and the know-how, he certainly would’ve paired it with virtual reality to make it feel more substantial. For a lonely genius with the time and resources at hand, it only seemed the logical progression to Stone. 

He then thought about how it made him feel. He felt betrayed, and though he didn't like to admit it, jealous. He thought on it a long time, allowing the perverse sense of flattery to sink in, too. Logically, he went through his thoughts and opened up the notes app on his phone, typing a few points out to discuss on their call later. He wondered how the Doctor was taking it back at the lab. Not well, he imagined. 

They needed to discuss boundaries and feelings, and the repercussions of shame and dishonesty. Stone’s shock and anger over the event were leveling out surprisingly quickly. They spoke later that night, Stone assuring him that they could move beyond it, Robotnik still earnestly upset with himself about it, sounding shatteringly guilty on the other end of the line. They ended the night on better terms, both vowing to discuss it more in person. The Doctor nearly offered to go back over to Stone's condo, desperately wanting to be physically comforted and to offer that in return, but he knew that this was not the time. 

The next time they discussed it, Robotnik recounted the guilty, solitary evenings he’d spent considering the implications of what he was doing. He explained to Stone how the guilt had only grown once they’d gotten together, how he was overcome by it whenever they attempted to be physically intimate. The stress of not being able to perform only compounded over time, and he was a mess about it. He apologized profusely, sincerely, and much to Stone’s surprise, the Doctor was even moved to tears a few times. 

He praised his Agent’s steadfast patience and superhuman kindness. He truly couldn’t believe that this hadn’t all ended in disaster, and that was all to Stone’s credit. He had no trouble making that amply clear. Stone made sure to praise his openness and honesty, wanting to encourage that good behavior. He asked him in all seriousness to be honest going forward to avoid another situation like this, and Robotnik earnestly agreed, sure he wouldn't survive another incident like this. 

Stone knew about Robotnik's low self-esteem, often cloaked by his bravado. He'd suspected that for a long time before they got together. He knew about his body issues and his interpersonal inexperience, things the Doctor told him either directly or indirectly over the last few months. It all made sense as they talked it out. They discussed the matter over several days, the Agent having plenty of time to explain how this made him feel (initially betrayed, then uncomfortable, then perhaps a bit curious), and Robotnik listened loud and clear, wanting to understand him. He knew that learning the effects of his actions would give him real world parameters, and help put some of his guilt to rest. They talked and laughed and occasionally cried until they were on equal, comfortable footing about it. They discussed ways to move forward, with the Doctor, of course, making a chart to reflect their prospective avenues of action. 

It wasn't until a few weeks later that Stone finally worked up the courage to say what he really wanted to say. 

“I want to see it.” 

“You _what?_ ” Robotnik asked, incredulous and immediately self-conscious. 

“I want to see it. I want to see your creation,” Stone said, sitting across the sofa from him. 

“Why on earth would you want to see that?” Robotnik asked, hoping this was a joke or a passing fancy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Stone asked, expression bright, curious. 

Robotnik was genuinely concerned that would make things worse. They had their chart of possible actions and this was _decidedly_ not included! 

“How is that going to help our relationship?” he asked calmly, trying to understand the angle, hoping to gently dissuade him, "This... This isn't on the chart." 

“I just want to see what all the hype is about. I'm really curious,” Stone said, lowering his eyelids irresistibly, “Won't you show me how it works?” 

Of course, he could not turn him down. Before he knew it, Stone’s hand was trailing down his chest and he was feeling more amenable to the idea. 

“Won’t you let me see it?” he asked winningly. 

Robotnik sighed and nodded with a faint smile. If Stone wanted to see the VR lab, he’d show him the VR lab. After all, the VR lab wasn't _all_ about sex. Maybe he just wanted to understand the mechanics behind it or see the space for himself. They walked down the hall together and Robotnik opened the door. Stone was surprised to find an almost completely barren room. 

“This is it,” Robotnik said anticlimactically, hoping he’d be satisfied at that, knowing he wouldn’t be. 

“Tell me about it,” Stone said, wheeling the chair away from the little desk and sitting a few feet from the vinyl table. 

“I come here to relax,” Robotnik said, quickly amending, “I’ve made a number of scenarios, from sitting in an empty Inokashira park during sakura season, to laying in the autumn grass in rural Ireland, looking up at the Perseid meteor shower.” 

“To fucking your assistant,” Stone added, needling him playfully. 

“To fucking my assistant,” Robotnik echoed, shaking his head. 

“Well, you know which one I want to see,” Stone said. 

“I’m guessing not the Perseids?” Robotnik asked. 

“Correct,” Stone answered with a toothy grin, “Show me how you’ve been getting off all this time.”

He watched the Doctor consider his proposition, circling slowly around the table once, arm folded behind his back, head bowed in thought. 

“Stone, I must warn you,” he started, “The uncanny valley is a strange thing.” 

“If it gets weird, we’ll stop,” Stone said with a shrug. 

Robotnik looked at him in disbelief. He made everything sound like the most natural thing in the world. The Agent was so pragmatic and sensible, so very calm about almost everything. Robotnik admired that about him. 

“And what am I to do?” Robotnik asked, lowering his head and leveling his gaze at him in a way that made Stone squirm. 

“What you usually do,” he replied, standing up to press his body against his, both hands on his chest, “I’d really enjoy watching you.” 

It was starting to sound like it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Robotnik looked down into his eyes and let out a held exhale with an indulgent smile and faint shake of his head. He held Stone's arms for a moment, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Stone knew he had it in the bag. 

"For you," Robotnik said, looking into his eyes, "I'll do it."

His hands slid the rest of the way down the Agent's arms and he walked over to the little cabinet, thankful that he’d made and kept an auxilliary headset close at hand, in case of malfunction. He handed one to Stone and carried the other to the table, along with a nitrile glove and a bottle of lubricant. Stone was beyond intrigues and already starting to feel the first pleasant twinges of arousal.

"Got me wrapped around your finger," Robotnik said with a chuff. 

Stone smiled as he held the headset, tilting his head slightly with an irresistible smile. 

"You're going to owe me after this," Robotnik said in good humor. 

Despite his willingness, his cheeks were burning at the prospect of what was about to happen with a powerful mix of nerves and arousal. When he turned, Stone was in his immediate space, unbuttoning his shirt for him. He shrugged off his coat and let Stone unbutton his shirt all the way, shivering as he ran his hands along his exposed skin. 

“I think it’s very cool that you’re letting me see this,” he whispered, "I'll gladly reciprocate however you want." 

_Cool_ , Robotnik thought with a wry smile. 

He was fairly certain he’d never been “cool” a day in his life, but if that was the descriptor Stone wanted to use, he wasn’t about to stop him.

He undressed down to his gloves – one sensor glove and one disposable nitrile one. Stone gave him a kiss, brief, but reassuring, before he stepped away and Robotnik took his usual spot on the table. He reclined comfortably, propped up at an easy forty-five degrees, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him, trying to forget that he was laying naked on a table in front of his partner, about to give him a show. He swiped through his little list of scenarios, picking a classic, one without anything too weird or private. They'd have time to discuss private intricacies and preferences later. 

“Okay, put your headset and headphones on,” Robotnik instructed. 

Stone did as he was told, heart already racing, so terribly interested to see where this was going that he could barely sit still.

"Press the button located on the left side of your headset," Robotnik said, trying to keep his voice level and calm. 

Stone pressed the button with his eyes tightly closed. When he opened them, he turned his head from side to side, looking all over. He could see Robotnik's face clearly somehow, no headset or headphones obscuring him, as though they'd gone invisible once the simulation started up. The room was warmly lit now, wood floors, and windows on the walls looking out onto a night sky. Robotnik laid on a bed instead of a vinyl table. 

_Neat trick_ , Stone thought. 

More surprisingly, he saw a very real-looking approximation of himself walking up to the table. He looked down at the Doctor, shifting his shoulders and grinning before climbing up between Robotnik's knees. 

_Holy fuckin’ shit,_ Stone thought, wheeling his chair a little closer. 

It was him to a very fine degree. The hair, the body, the smile. Stone had expected this to be impressive, but this was utterly uncanny, completely convincing. He was agape as he watched the mirror of himself run his hands carefully up the outside of Robotnik's bare thighs. Already he felt an odd little twinge of jealousy. He swallowed hard, looking at the version of him, completely

“Hey, Doctor. Come here to blow off some steam?” the simulation asked Robotnik, "Had a hard day in the lab?" 

Stone felt an eerie chill at the accuracy the voice. The pitch, the timbre, the intonation were all perfect. The Doctor was right about the uncanny valley. A little chill ran through him as he watched himself look down at Robotnik intently. The strangeness, however, did not deter his arousal. He reached down discreetly to unzip his pants and pull out his cock, already hard at the sight before him. 

Robotnik was more or less invested in the fantasy, self-consciousness starting to fade just slightly. He didn't dare look over at the real Stone. He was sure Stone would make good on his word and stop everything if he felt uncomfortable, which was a small relief. He knew that he could say the word at any time, too, to stop the scenario.

The person he cared for most was viewing his deepest secret. He tried to push that out of his mind. He bristled faintly at the familiar feeling of that synthetic hand on his knee. He opened his eyes wider behind the visor. He was experiencing something new that took a moment for him to process. 

_Isn't that interesting_ , he thought to himself. 

For the first time ever, the simulation felt insubstantial. Not disappointing, just less realistic, more like a game, less convincing. Since the last time he'd come to the VR lab, Robotnik had experienced the real Agent Stone, the feel of his callused hands, the warmth and strength of them, the emotion they somehow conveyed in skin-to-skin contact. He'd memorized the natural, pleasant smell of his skin and hair, felt the weight of his body against his, noting each breath and movement. All of those new little data points were missing, making the simulacrum feel incomplete. 

Before he could think much further on it, a voice pulled him from his thoughts. 

“C’mon, spread those long legs for me, Doctor,” the facsimile said. 

“Okay,” Robotnik said softly, “Go easy on me.” 

“Okay, okay,” it replied, "I'll take good care of you tonight. I always do, don't I?"

Robotnik didn't answer, but did as he was instructed, moving his knees further apart and moaning at the first brush of a self-lubricated finger breaching him, coaxing him open. At the first physical contact, his anxieties really started to melt away. He felt the tension in his shoulders lessen as he gave into the game like he always did. 

Stone watched, transfixed as his double fingered Robotnik, looking down at him possessively. It was beyond hot, though his view was partly obstructed by the Doctor's legs. As he moved slightly for a better vantage point, he caught the slight movement of Robotnik’s hand, fingers rubbing against the surface of the table, slightly curled, knowing he was discreetly controlling the speed and depth of the hand that fucked him. 

_Clever_ , he thought, _as_ _ever_. 

Stone watched his simulated double knelt between his partner’s legs, shoulders hunched, looking up at him with an eager, hungry grin, forearm thrusting. He felt vain admitting it to himself, but he looked _good_. He was deeply flattered at the lens that Robotnik must have viewed him though, giving his simulation that charming smile and confident attitude. 

Robotnik’s lean frame was moving almost hypnotically, drawing the Agent's attention away from himself. It was subtle, but Stone watched each muscular twitch, each little spasm of pleasure, totally rapt. He licked his lips without realizing how hungry he was for him. He imagined this was an enhanced version of watching back one’s own sex tape, but hotter. Hotter because it was illicit, because he had nothing to do with it, because it showed just how badly his partner wanted him. He was practically wild with arousal with periodic flickers of disbelief, already stoking his cock in an automatic way.

He couldn’t believe how close to himself the facsimile was, and he wondered how the Doctor did it. He made a mental note to ask him later. He was too busy trying to wrap his head around the real, actual Doctor interacting so seamlessly with a total construct. He was aware that Robotnik was completely consumed by this fantasy, and it surprised him. He liked everything so logical and concrete. 

“Oh, fuck,” Robotnik breathed, breaking him from his thoughts. 

He looked over at Stone briefly and saw that he was masturbating, arching his back up off the table and gasping at the sight. He turned his eyes back to the virtual Stone, who smiled down at him warmly. He felt an electric chill pass through his body. 

“Oh my god,” Robotnik moaned, unable to comprehend that the actual Agent Stone was watching his secret pleasure, his secret shame. 

“Is that good?” the facsimile asked him. 

“So fucking good,” the Doctor replied. 

Stone stood quietly, undressing quickly, letting his clothes lay where they fell. He had a plan coming together swiftly in his mind and he couldn't hold still any longer. He watched intently, feeling his stomach tighten as Robotnik’s head fell back, as his double stretched him open with a few fingers, making him make those pleasured, restricted sounds. 

The Agent dared to lift the visor on his headset to understand what was happening behind the scenes. Suddenly, his double disappeared and Robotnik was on his back on the table, getting fucked by a sleek metal arm with a realistic hand on the end. Somehow, that was just as hot as watching himself finger-fuck him into oblivion. He lingered a moment, watching the Doctor pleasure himself without augmentation, without an ounce of discretion. Stone slid his visor down again after a moment and watched himself between Robotnik's spread thighs, leaning over him with a sort of gentle dominance. 

“You’re almost ready for this dick, huh?” the simulation asked, “I can tell you’re just dying for it.” 

The Agent shivered at those words. The voice sounded so much like his, and yet wasn’t him. He was sure he’d thought the exact same words on any given lonesome Saturday night, waist-deep in fantasy-land with Robotnik on his mind. The dialogue felt as though it had been pulled directly from his personal lexicon, from his most private thoughts. 

“I am,” Robotnik groaned, rocking down gracefully on his fingers, feeling more of his inhibitions slip away, “I’m dying for it, Stone.” 

Stone had to cover his mouth quickly at the sound of Robotnik saying his name. Though it wasn't directly to him, it had much the same effect. He stroked his cock slowly at the sight, squeezing the base of his shaft, flexing his neck. He didn’t want to finish too soon, to push himself too close to the edge. He slowed down and held back. He wondered if this was considered voyeurism, given that he was technically watching and participating simultaneously. 

“Why waste time, huh, Doctor? You’re a very busy man,” the facsimile said, unnervingly pitch-perfect. 

Stone walked soundlessly closer, watching as his double drew his fingers out, slick with lube. He leaned in close, watching his cock press into Robotnik’s ready hole. Stone reached out and touched the inside of Robotnik’s thigh, making him jump. He needed a better look, moving his thigh slightly, spreading them further apart. 

“You’re gonna give it to him good, huh?” Stone asked his double. 

Robotnik watched the two of them interact wordlessly, completely silenced. The sight was so uncanny, so beyond his wildest dreams, watching his gorgeous partner and his doppelganger interacting. He’d never considered his creation interacting with anyone else but himself. His stomach churned and his skin burned hot. It was a bit like an erotic fever dream. 

“Yeah, of course I am,” his simulation said sunnily as his realistic cock sunk home.

Robotnik moaned, feeling that familiar cock deep inside him, but looking at his assistant, more interested in him. 

“How’s he like it?” the real Stone asked, paying Robotnik no mind, hand still absently resting on his inner thigh, "What's he like?"

The Doctor was so turned on that he was almost sure he’d forgotten how to breathe. He was too far gone to be unsettled by the strangeness of the current situation. He looked back and forth between the two Stones, and no matter how quick or deeply he breathed, it just wasn’t enough to fill his lungs. He felt his heart thundering and that realistic silicone cock pulsing faintly inside him. 

“He likes to get fucked hard,” the simulation said, looking directly at the genuine article, “And he likes to be choked. Isn’t that right, Doctor?” 

“Y-yeah,” Robotnik finally managed to speak, swallowing audibly. 

The facsimile started to move slowly, hoisting one of his legs up by the underside of his calf with a strong, lifelike hand. The real Stone had his back nearly turned to him. He reached down between Robotnik’s legs, gently moving his sac with his hand. He watched that cock fucking slowly into his rosy hole and licked his lips, suppressing a chill. He wanted the Doctor so badly that he could barely think, but he had to keep his cool just a while longer. 

“What else does he like, besides being choked?” Stone asked himself, pressing his thumb firmly against Robotnik’s perineum, earning him a high whine. 

“Oh, he’s so fuckin’ nasty,” the simulation said, a perfect emulation of his own voice, “He likes to have his hair pulled, to get spanked, he likes it when you cum down his throat. He’ll let you do whatever you like. He's... Very amenable.” 

Stone trembled at that revelation, having to squeeze his eyes tightly shut for a moment, to collect himself. He finally turned to Robotnik, looking down at his flushed face. He was halfway gone between desperation and possible embarrassment at having his sordid secrets aired to his partner. 

“Is that true, baby?” Stone asked, “Will you let us do whatever we want to you?” 

_Us. We._

It made him cry out, arch up off the table, slim body tense all over. He watched, breathing heavy as Stone regarded his double again. 

“Mind if I get in on it?” he asked. 

“By all means,” the facsimile replied with a toothy smile, "I think he'd like that." 

“Oh god!” Robotnik gasped, head spinning. 

He was about to be very outnumbered, and he didn't mind it one bit. 

“Open wide, Doc,” Stone said, taking him by a handful of his hair, “Suck my cock while I fuck you.” 

Before he could say anything, Stone’s cock was in his mouth, while the facsimile fucked him steadily, quiet save for his unnecessary, simulated breaths. Robotnik flicked his eyes back and forth between the two, his gorgeous assistant and the version of him he'd created. He was completely overloaded, already drooling, eyes rolling, catching the occasional sight of the real Stone, who was tugging his hair teasingly as he fucked his mouth. 

“I can see the charm,” Stone said, jerking his head slightly in the direction of the ersatz Stone, “You did a damn good job. He looks just like me. Sounds just like me, too.” 

“Mmph,” Robotnik choked, eyes closed. 

His stomach was churning and he was absolutely dying for someone to touch him, but relief wouldn’t come. He wasn't quite desperate enough to touch himself yet, not when he had two Stones using him. The Agent was all but hitting the back of his throat with his cock, knowing his limits pretty well already. He looked down at Robotnik, eyes narrowed, lip caught between his teeth. 

“Fuck him a little harder,” Stone told his double, feeling him speed up, “Yeah, just like that.” 

He pulled Robotnik off of his cock abruptly. 

“Stick out your tongue,” Stone said, just on the edge of a growl, "Lick me."

Robotnik, a mess already and more than eager to please at this unsuspected fantasy, did as he was told, messily licking Stone’s cock from base to tip. His fingers in his hair ignited little sparks that moved down his back all the way down to where he was being fucked by his simulation, taking his cock with ease. 

"You're kind of obsessed with me, aren't you?" Stone asked deviously. 

Robotnik did his best to make an affirmative sound with his tongue out. 

"It's cute," Stone said, running his thumb along his hairline, "That you went to all this effort, I mean." 

Robotnik's feet were currently planted firmly on the table, hips raised, feeling the other Stone's cock fucking deep into him. Robotnik was vaguely aware that his breaths were coming in pitiful, overwhelmed gasps already. Stone let go of his hair and pulled his hips back, taking the Doctor’s chin in his hand. 

“How’d you do it, Doctor?” he asked, other hand stroking through his mussed hair, "I want to know how you did it."

“Not now, Stone,” he replied after clearing his throat. 

“Why not?” Stone asked, an odd mix of sweet and ruthless, thumb swiping along the Doctor’s lower lip, wiping away the spittle there, “We’re you spyin’ on me?” 

It was delivered easily enough that he nodded without thinking, holding Stone’s gaze pathetically. 

“Oh, that won't do, now will it?” the Agent replied, breaking into a toothy grin, making Robotnik shudder, "We'll have to punish you for that later." 

He pressed his thumb past his lips and held his tongue to the bottom of his mouth, keeping him from speaking. 

“You know, there’s something so kinky about this,” Stone said, stroking the pad of his thumb over his tongue, feeling his lower teeth below his knuckle, “You going to all this trouble because you wanted me so bad. I'm honestly flattered.” 

The Doctor tried to make a muffled sound, but the thumb in his mouth stopped him. 

“And now look at you – your little simulation fucking your ass and me fucking your throat. Open up,” he said, "Did you ever imagine having us both at once?" 

Robotnik opened his mouth and looked up at him, wide-eyed. He'd never considered it, but he didn't have the wherewithal to answer. Stone appreciated the view for the moment, Robotnik completely submissive, one shaky hand touching his hip. He slipped his thumb out of his mouth and replaced it with his cock, watching Robotnik’s eyes close as his lips closed around him. 

Stone looked back over his shoulder at himself, fucking Robotnik, hands keeping his knees far apart. He couldn’t resist the urge to flash himself a thumbs up. His double responded with a wink and a little nod of acknowledgement. He was so immersed that it barely seemed strange at this point. He could hear the pornographic squelching from behind him, making him eager to move forward, to get a piece of the action for himself. 

“Now, are you gonna let me fuck you tonight, too?” Stone asked, looking down at him. 

Robotnik tried to nod, but the Agent’s hand in his hair and cock in his mouth made it difficult.

"D'you want to take this cock?" Stone asked, "You want my actual cock inside you?"

Robotnik managed a feeble nod this time, with an enthusiastic grunt, though his mouth was full. 

“I’d like that,” Stone said, before looking over his shoulder and asking himself, “Mind if I have a turn?” 

“Sure, go ahead,” his double replied with a wink, "You look like you know what to do with him." 

Stone pulled out of his mouth and leaned down to kiss Robotnik briefly, letting go of his hair. The Doctor watched in a daze as the virtual Stone pulled out and stepped back, and the genuine article took his place. Stone climbed onto the table, Robotnik immediately noticing it shifting with his added weight. That was new, adding yet another dimension to everything that was happening. 

While adaptable to a fault, Doctor Robotnik typically did not enjoy changes to his highly-routinized habits. The VR lab always ran a certain way, more or less predictably outside of the finer details of whichever scenario he chose, with everything under his control. He felt his chest tighten when he realized that was not the case tonight. For once, he was greatly looking forward to change. 

“D’you want me, Doctor?” Stone asked, hands on his knees as he knelt between his legs. 

“Stone, I need you,” Robotnik begged, “Please, please!” 

Stone grinned down at him and braced himself on the table with strong hands. He pulled back, noticing the little bottle of lube on the table. He slicked himself up with care, still wet with his partner’s drool, before rubbing himself against his hole teasingly. He trembled, unable to shake the gravity of what was about to happen. 

“Ready for the real thing?” Stone asked. 

“Stone, please!” Robotnik cried, unable to wait any longer as his voice petered out into a wanting murmur, “Fuck me, please... I can't wait any longer, Stone.” 

The Agent lined himself up and carefully pushed forward, shivering as the Doctor’s warm body swallowed him up. He was an endless, quivering heat that practically had Stone doubling over before he’d even bottomed out. It was better than he could've ever imagined, the whole experience only intensified by the strangeness of it, and how long he had to wait for it. He couldn't believe it was actually happening. Sex with headsets wasn't something Stone had ever pictured as being particularly hot, but he was more than willing to change his mind on the matter. 

“Fuck, you _are_ ready for my cock,” he breathed, feeling Robotnik tighten reflexively around him, “You’re so slick. Oh god, I want you so bad.” 

The Doctor’s eyes rolled when he felt Stone’s hips between his thighs. His simulation was good, but immaterial. Having something to feel, something to grab on to, was an entirely new experience. He was so blissed out that he was barely thinking. His legs wrapped around Stone’s waist almost automatically and he tipped his head back, moaning softly. 

“You like that?” Stone asked, rubbing his hands along his thighs as they tightened around him. 

“Yeah,” Robotnik replied hazily, eyes closed beneath his visor, "So good. Incredible."

Stone carefully took off his own headphones and headset, setting them aside, looking down at Robotnik. He was fully sheathed inside him, but still unmoving, trying to memorize everything about this moment. He reached down and gently placed both hands on his bare, slim chest, running his fingers down his stomach, watching his body’s minute physical reactions, admiring him. 

Stone looked at his face, eyes covered by his headset, lips slightly parted, breathing labored. He smiled, fairly sure his eyes were still closed. 

“I’m gonna start moving now, okay?” he asked quietly. 

“Okay,” Robotnik replied, one arm hanging limply off the table at the elbow, "Oh, Stone. I want you." 

Stone’s hands moved to his hips, wrapping around them easily, lifting him slightly off the table before he started with a slow, easy thrust. Each movement coaxed a little overwhelmed, pleasured sound out of his partner. It was music to the Agent’s ears. He kept at that pace, careful not to overwhelm him. It was obvious that Robotnik liked everything that was happening, but Stone couldn't help but ask. 

“Is that good, Doctor?” he rasped. 

“Incredible,” Robotnik replied numbly between deliciously shaky breaths. 

He lifted his head slightly, opening his eyes. Stone reached forward and gently took off his headphones, and stopped the Doctor from removing his headset, leaning in to speak softly in his ear. 

“If you turn off your headset, will it go dark?” he asked. 

Robotnik nodded, feeling gooseflesh raise on his arms. 

“Can you do that for me?” Stone asked. 

Again, he nodded and reached up a shaky hand to press a button at the side of his headset, his world all at once going dark. He gasped, limp on the table. Stone thought it might be good to let him ease out of the fantasy before bringing him into the real world. Robotnik was suddenly very aware of everything that was happening to his physical body. Stone's cock was filling him up slowly, his thighs were tensely wrapped around his strong waist, heart racing, chest pleasantly tight. 

“What can you feel?” Stone asked, moving his hips steadily but still gently, short, easy pumps. 

“I can feel your cock in me,” he replied, clearing his throat, trying to regain some control over his voice, “I can feel your – oh god – I can feel your hands on my hips. I have my legs around your waist.” 

“How do you feel about that?” Stone asked, resisting the urge speed up. 

“It’s... Fantastic,” Robotnik said, “I don’t usually-” 

He paused to take a deep breath. 

“You don’t usually have anything to grab onto?” Stone offered, taking both of the Doctor’s hands. 

“Ah, precisely,” he replied shakily, “Ooh.” 

Stone pressed both of Robotnik’s hands onto his chest before bracing himself with both hands on the table, feeling his palms sinking into the cushion beneath the vinyl upholstery. Robotnik’s fingers kneaded into his pectoral muscles, appreciating the strength and heat of his body. This is what he imagined Stone would feel like - sturdy and desirable and divine. The Doctor's gloved fingers on Stone's bare skin thrilled him. 

Stone watched Robotnik’s head tip back, exposing his throat, watching his chest raise off the table in a smooth undulation, listening to his heavy breathing. He could tell he was really starting to get into it. He bowed his head and pressed a kiss to Robotnik’s neck, causing him to suck in a sudden breath. Stone laid a few more kisses down his neck, interspersed with open-mouthed breaths to tease him. 

“Oh, god! Stone!” Robotnik moaned, digging his fingers into his chest, "I feel... So good."

Feeling "good" was something Robotnik hadn't truly been familiar with until they'd gotten together. Yes, there was a pleasure and a rush to creating something the likes of which the world had never seen before, but secretly, it paled in comparison to a kiss or a brush or an embrace from the object of his affection. 

“Simulations can’t kiss, can they?” Stone asked, lifting his head. 

“N-no,” Robotnik replied, "No, they can't."

Stone leaned forward and kissed his lips, but only briefly, feeling him clench down on his cock at the touch of his lips. He ground into him slowly, resting his forehead briefly against his shoulder. Robotnik’s hands left his chest to squeeze his arms, feeling the irresistible muscle there. Being unable to see what was happening was so exciting, but he needed to ground himself somewhere. 

“Doctor, you feel so fucking good,” Stone said tightly. 

“Harder, Stone, please,” Robotnik said, eyes momentarily going all unfocused. 

“Don’t you want to see me first?” Stone asked, audibly grinning. 

“Uh-huh,” Robotnik said with an affirmative nod, “Please.” 

Stone kissed him again before straightening up at the waist, pulling his hands off of the table. He reached forward carefully, removing his headset. Robotnik didn’t resist. He let out a shuddering breath upon laying eyes on his assistant – his real assistant – knelt between his legs. Stone was flushed, looking down at him adoringly. 

Robotnik moved his hand just slightly to dim the lights a little, to make the quality of the light a little warmer, a little less harsh. Stone leaned forward over him, fucking into him steadily, eyes all dreamy, yet still focused on him. He couldn’t get enough of Robotnik’s expression, one of mixed wonderment and absolute sensual overload. 

“Does it feel real?” Stone asked, taking hold of his hips again. 

“Yes,” Robotnik said, eyes fluttering closed. 

“And - oh – how's it stack up against your simulation?” Stone asked. 

“Doesn’t compare,” Robotnik replied, “It’s... It's very different.”

"Different good, I hope," Stone offered with a smile. 

"It's unbelievable how much better you are," Robotnik said, pausing for a breath, "Superior in every way." 

Stone felt his dominant grip on the situation waver at the compliment. He was sure his expression softened in the moment. 

“I’ve - oh god – I've never been happier to admit that one of my inventions,” Robotnik continued, trying to ease his strangled tone, “doesn’t quite measure up. Now get closer. I – I need to touch you.” 

Stone smiled, more than happy to oblige. He bent at the waist, hunching his shoulders to bring them closer while maintaining a grip on both of his hips. He watched Robotnik lift his unsteady hands, pulling off his nitrile glove with a sticky snap. Next, without hesitation, he pulled off his sensor glove and tossed it aside. 

Stone gaped for a second, understnding the deeper meaning of it. He was now completely disconnected from the simulation, no longer in control of the VR lab. The Agent winced at the rush of arousal he felt, the pleasant momentary feeling in his stomach that almost bordered on queasiness. 

Robotnik’s bare hands broke him from his amazement, reaching up and touching his cheeks, beard scratching against his palms. His hands moved down Stone’s neck and rested for a moment on his shoulders, thumbs on his clavicle. Wordlessly, his hands moved down Stone’s muscular arms, pausing just below the elbows, holding him tighter before sliding down his wrists, gripping his hands. Next, his smoothed his palms down the Agent’s back, marveling at the smoothness of his skin, reveling at every touch and surface, each texture and muscular movement. Stone meanwhile, admired his expression, dazed, eyes barely open, lips just parted, flushed. Vulnerable and teetering on the edge of control. 

When Robotnik’s fingernails tested his shoulders, Stone couldn’t stop from volleying a few hard thrusts. He liked to be scratched, something Robotnik hadn’t learned yet. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, slowing his hips and taking a moment to catch his breath, feeling Robotnik’s grip on him loosen. 

“No need, no need,” Robotnik assured, "Do that again." 

He was already in a lull, as Stone’s hands had left his hips and were slipping up his sides, his touch feather-light, teasing. Robotnik arched his back and sighed. He'd never felt so incredible in his life, every nerve alight, every pleasure center throbbing. 

"Do what again?" Stone asked. 

“Stone, fuck me harder, please,” he breathed. 

“Yeah? You sure?” Stone asked, swallowing hard. 

Robotnik nodded and loosened his legs from around his waist. He needed Stone urgently and needed him just then. In an unsuspected turn, Stone’s hands wrapped around his thighs from underneath and hoisted his legs up over his shoulders. Robotnik’s breath caught as the Agent pushed down against him slowly, folding his legs against his body, sinking into him more deeply than he had all night. 

Of course, that had been one of the tricks of his simulation, that was one of the reasons he’d given it hands. He liked to have his legs held high, lifted in the air, out of the way for easier access. He liked to feel pinned in place, almost helpless. Of course, his simulation was no match for the Agent, whose muscular body was radiating heat and leaking pheromones just inches away from him. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god, fuck,” he was saying, before even realizing it. 

“Is this okay?” Stone asked silkily, arms wrapped around his knees, palms against the fronts of his slender calves. 

“Oh god, Stone!” he begged, “That’s so deeeep.” 

Robotnik’s drone on that last syllable told him all he needed to know. Though his cock was in him as far as it would go, Stone ground his hips against him, giving him more of that physical connection, reminding him that he was a solid, physical being and not a hologram. Robotnik’s hands were on his face, abruptly pulling him forward, nearly nose-to-nose. 

“Fuck meeee,” Robotnik breathed. 

When Robotnik switched out of his usual succinct, crisp syntax, Stone knew he was completely out to sea with pleasure. He started up again, rocking into him steadily, watching his enraptured expression. Robotnik, of course, was a quick study and knew just what to do to get what he wanted. He rested his hands on the Agent’s shoulders, palms briefly flat before sinking his nails in, raking them downward, feeling his muscles tense. Immediately, Stone started fucking into him harder with a subconscious growl. 

“So impatient,” Stone rasped in his ear, maintaining that faster rhythm. 

In spite of the tide pulling him out, Robotnik grinned, raking his nails a little softer now, teasing at the skin of his back. Simulation or no, he had his little ways of controlling the situation. 

Stone quickly regained the upper hand, straightening his back, pulling Robotnik’s hips up off the table, legs still over his shoulders, holding tight to his knees. Stone was pounding into him like a jackhammer, the sound of his balls smacking against him obscene, and not easily imitable, as he had found. 

“Can your machine fuck you like this?” Stone asked with a dominant edge. 

“No!” Robotnik gasped, fingers now scrabbling at the tabletop for purchase, feeling his body being moved with ease. 

“No?” Stone repeated, looking down at him mischievously. 

“Stone, I’ve never been fucked like this in my life,” he leveled, eyes serious until he let his head slip back. 

Robotnik couldn’t wait any longer, and didn’t see any reason to. He fumbled around for the lube on the table and poured some into one hand, reaching down between them to grab his neglected erection. He hissed at the first squeeze and started to work his shaft slowly, not wanting to cum too soon. Just when he thought he couldn't feel any better, the searing pleasure of touching himself shot him into another dimension of feeling. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Stone said, looking down, watching him masturbate, “Are you gonna cum for me tonight? I’ve never seen you cum before.” 

“Definitely,” Robotnik said, voice a little higher than usual, “Aah, Stone, give it to me!” 

The begging made the Agent’s toes curl. He shook his head quickly to center himself. The view was something Stone knew he’d never tire of seeing. Robotnik’s slim hips and hard cock, long fingers working his shaft in the meticulous way he did everything. Stone looked down, following the lines of his own body, to where his cock was buried and shuddered at the sight. 

“I can’t believe I’m finally getting to fuck you,” Stone said, bending Robotnik’s legs as he lowered himself, bringing their bodies close again. 

Robotnik sucked in an abrupt breath and arched up against him. He couldn’t believe it either. He couldn’t believe how much better the genuine Agent Stone was in every way. Well, he could believe it, but it was just so much to take in. He was completely submersed in the most pleasurable, excruciating sensory overload of his life. Between Stone’s ambient warmth, his muscular body free to grab and wrap around, his cock deep inside him, hands hands on his body - his mind was so occupied that it felt like static. 

He thought the hands and cock he’d designed were lifelike, but they were clearly no substitute for the real thing. Stone’s hands on his calves made his knees week, their strength, the callused pads of his fingertips lighting up his skin with each brush. His cock was superior in ways that were beyond words. The way Stone was fucking him had him in an almost zen state beneath the moans that were starting to border on frenzied, almost as though the mysteries of life were coming into focus just beyond his reach. 

In a brief moment of nonsensical clarity, the Doctor imagined the difference between reality and simulation was similar to the difference between a meal you cooked yourself versus one prepared by someone else. The one you didn’t make was always better in ways that were beyond description. He would’ve laughed at his little thought, if not for the fact that Stone’s hand found its way to his neck, applying gentle pressure at the sides. 

The Agent watched his eyes roll back and loosened his grip just a little. He felt the pulse of his arousal all over. 

“Do you like that?” he asked, quickly approaching his own climax, "Can I do that?"

“Yes!” Robotnik exclaimed, voice breathy, “Harder!” 

“Fuck you harder or choke you harder?” Stone asked, needing an explicit answer. 

“Yes!” Robotnik practically shouted. 

“Clarification, I need clarification!” Stone gasped back. 

“Both! Do both!” Robotnik practically roared, chest coming up off the table in an oddly elegant arc. 

Stone, never one to get too carried away, tightened his grip on his partner’s neck with care, feeling his Adam’s apple shift under his hand. He was relieved to see that it didn’t take much. He moved his hips faster and harder, plunging into him with everything he had. 

“Please, please, please, please,” Robotnik said, voice high, expression overwrought. 

The longer Stone looked at him, the closer he felt to the edge. He squeezed his throat a little harder, just a little, watching his head tip back, his mouth open with a submissive gasp. Robotnik's eyes opened briefly, nearly crossed. 

“So hot,” Stone said between his own labored breaths. 

He took the moment to appreciate Robotnik’s lithe body, never having really had such a good look at him before. There was grace in his severity, at the abrupt jut of his hips and the slope below his rib cage. Stone reached out with his free hand and followed from his ribs downward, to the soft skin on his lower stomach. Robotnik’s hand was squeezing his own cock, barely stroking now, letting the momentum of Stone's thrusts do the work for him. 

“Can I touch you?” Stone asked, eyes flicking up to his face. 

Robotnik made a strangled sound, trying to register what was happening beyond Stone’s hand wrapped so carefully around his throat and his cock pummeling his ass. He lifted his head a little, straining against the Agent’s strong forearm. He looked down at Stone’s fingers gently perched just above the dark line of his pubic hair. 

“Yes!” he said, voice dry and strained, looking up at his lover with desperate eyes, “Please!” 

Robotnik let go of his cock with an unrestrained grunt and nodded weakly again. Stone took him up instead, stroking him at about one pump for every two of his thrusts, keeping it a bit slower. Stone was sure he’d never heard him say please so many times in such quick succession. 

He couldn’t hold his hand on his throat too long. He was very careful, and it was one too many things to think about, maintaining a light, safe grip on his neck. He slowly loosened his grip and moved his hand away, relieved when Robotnik didn’t protest. Now he could focus without worry. 

“Feelin’ good?” Stone asked. 

Robotnik nodded, unable to form words, moaning in an earnest, unrestrained way that had an electric effect on the Agent. Their eyes met and Stone was sure he’d never seen the Doctor look so vulnerable. He drank him in, his desperate, pleasured expression, his complete lack of discretion or order. It was intoxicating. 

“Are you ready to cum, Doctor?” he asked, having noticed that his hologram double had called him by his title and not his name. 

Robotnik lurched off the table suddenly, eyes rolling back in an almost-cartoonish expression of erotic delirium. Both of his hands grabbed Stone’s shoulders and pulled him closer abruptly, surprising him with the strength in those wiry arms. Stone was bracing himself on the table with one hand and masturbating him with the other, now in time with his pounding thrusts. 

“Doctor, I’m so close,” Stone said, nearly a whimper. 

Obviously, Robotnik liked to be talked to, he realized now. He’d make a note to talk more next time, to give him more of the real voice he’d obviously spent so much time replicating. 

“You’re so slick, you feel so fucking good, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Stone rattled off, wanting to cram in as much talking as he could until the inevitable finish, “Ooh, take my cock! Let me feel you cum. Doctor, I _need_ you!” 

Stone was prepared to go on when something truly surprising happened. Robotnik’s hands moved suddenly from his shoulders to face, pulling him down on top of him and into a fierce, hungry, desperate kiss. As he did this, he slipped his legs down from Stone’s shoulders, planting his feet flat on the table for leverage, squeezing the Agent’s hips with his thighs. Stone closed his eyes and was immediately all-in, feeling Robotnik’s tongue messily laving at him, mouths crushed together as they started to reach the brink. 

Robotnik came first, orgasm seeming to hit him suddenly and without mercy. He yanked himself back from the kiss, unable to stifle the sounds of his pleasure. 

“Aah! Aah! Stone, oh god! Aah!” he cried, high and needy and half-gone, splattering them both, making a mess of them. 

As Robotnik clamped down around him in a hypnotic rhythm, Stone felt the last of fibers of his willpower give way. He was nose-to-nose with the Doctor as he came, pumping into him for as long as he could, repeating his title over and over without fully realizing he was doing it. 

“Doctor, Doctor, ooh, Doctor,” gritted, harsh, exhausted. 

When it was all over, Stone braced himself on one arm, belly to belly with Robotnik. Stone made sure not to press the weight of his chest down against him. He could hear how heavy he was breathing, the occasional rattling wheeze enough to let him know that Robotnik didn’t need to be fully crushed to the table underneath him. He needed to catch his breath. They both did. 

“Oh, Doctor,” Stone said between deep breaths, “That was incredible.” 

“Stone, I – that was – oh god” was all he could manage in response, making a feeble mental note to make his feelings on the matter known later. 

Stone kissed his lips lazily several times in the ensuing minutes before finally reaching between them and pulling out with a trembling wince. Robotnik, too, grunted softly as he did, body giving one last weak spasm of pleasure. It was all over now but the cleaning up, most of which Robotnik assured would be taken care of, the lab being fully-automated. 

A long while after, they both laid sprawled on the Doctor’s bed. Stone’s hand was facing up on the mattress, with Robotnik’s fingers idly tracing the lines of his palm. They’d barely said a word since they left the VR lab, Stone supporting most of Robotnik’s weight as they opted for the service elevator over the stairs. They were simply floating in a pool of commingled bliss, side by side in bed. 

Robotnik’s fingers in Stone’s palm seemed to produce little ripples of pleasure that traveled from the former to the latter. Neither was near to dozing, instead basking in a floaty state of pleasant feelings, physical and emotional. 

“That was... Unexpected,” Robotnik finally said, looking up at the ceiling with a dreamy grin. 

“Oh?” Stone asked, “You didn’t think I’d want to get in on the action?” 

“Not necessarily that,” Robotnik said, “I didn’t think it would turn out this way.” 

“Specifics, please,” Stone said. 

Sometimes he just had to ask for what he wanted from Robotnik, whose words often skipped over points that his brain found implicit. 

“Everything. I didn’t think we’d ever be together, you and I. Then, I certainly thought I’d never see you again if you found out about the VR lab,” Robotnik said thoughtfully, “I’m so sorry, Stone. I’m sorry I wasted so much time-” 

Stone cut him off gently, silently, closing his hand and entwining their fingers. Robotnik quieted and sighed. 

“No more apologies,” Stone said, “Don’t you feel like we kind of put it to bed tonight?” 

“That definitely... Worked through some of my anxieties,” Robotnik said with a humorous chuff. 

“Good,” Stone said quietly, turning on his side and draping an arm across him, “Think we can manage it next time without the support software?” 

“Oh, definitely,” Robotnik said, turning his head to kiss the Agent on his forehead, “I think that particular set of virtual scenarios will be scrapped fairly soon. From now on, I'll stick to cherry blossoms and meteor showers, babbling brooks, pleasant landscapes.” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Stone said, “Wait a minute now. I don’t get to try it?” 

“Didn’t you try it tonight?” Robotnik asked, still a little foggy from his mind-numbing climax. 

“Not with two of _you_ , no,” Stone said seductively, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“Oh,” Robotnik said, realization slowly trickling down, “ _Oh_. I see. I’ll... I’ll consider it.” 

Though he was sure the Doctor was trying to play his cards close to his chest, he could already tell that the wheels were turning, a plan coming together in his head. 

“Consider it,” Stone said, kissing his cheek. 

“If we learned anything tonight, though,” Robotnik said, moving slowly, climbing on top of Stone, braced on his elbows above him, “It’s that nothing is a suitable substitute for the real thing.” 

They were once again inches apart, Stone wrapping his arms around the Doctor, pulling him in closer to his body. Not only could he get used to this, the physical intimacy, Robotnik's newfound comfort level with him, he was sure he'd never get enough of it. 

“High praise coming from you,” Stone replied. 

“Stone, listen,” Robotnik said, holding his face in his hands, looking directly into his eyes, “You are the only thing in my life that I have not been able to improve upon. No tweaking. No reverse engineering. No recalibrating. No updating. Nothing. None of it’s necessary. You’re absolutely perfect as-is and it never ceases to amaze me.” 

Stone gasped quietly, always surprised by Robotnik’s sudden, candid, and deep words of affection. He always managed to take him by surprise. 

“Doctor,” he said sweetly, almost a little overcome, trying to formulate a reply. 

From a highly discerning individual, words like that were more valuable than gold. 

“Entirely true. Scientifically proven,” Robotnik said, leaning in slowly, until their lips met, brushing almost shyly. 

Stone pulled him down into a kiss, where they lingered a long moment before pulling apart. Robotnik laid back down next to him after, still too exhausted to be upright for any longer than a moment. 

He truly hadn't thought things would ever work out this way for him. 

As he laid there, Stone embraced him from the side, cheek resting over his heart, exuding that fantastic human warmth, breathing deeply, having already fallen asleep. Robotnik was sure he'd never felt so happy. He'd never imagined a scenario for himself that was lasting and happy, one that had a duration of longer than a half-hour and didn't end with him alone and laying on a table, exhausted, yet still somehow wanting. Not even in his wildest virtual reality dreams did he hazard to dream of what he had now, and if he had tried his hand at creating it, it still wouldn't have compared to the real thing. 

There was just no simulating it. There was just no simulating love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends!  
> I'm sure you all know where chapter five is heading, provided you read to the end. I think it's going to be a raunchy one!  
> Thank you for sticking around and reading, and being patient. I know chapter three was rough with all that angst, and I really wanted to get this one up quickly to make up for it, but you what they say about the best laid plans.  
> Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking around and always offering up such kind, thoughtful words. You all are truly the best.  
> Love to you all - I hope you're all well, and I wish you a lovely week! Hopefully back soon with chapter five. 
> 
> Sordidly Yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta

**Author's Note:**

> Friends,  
> That was... Something.  
> Tomorrow I'll start work on the next chapter, in which our dear Doctor is on the bottom. I think perhaps Agent Stone (the genuine article) will make a substantial appearance in chapter three. I think this is going to be a fun ride.  
> Suggestions are always welcome, along with likes and kudos, which light a little flicker in my soul.  
> I hope the new year is treating you all well so far. Thank you so much for reading. Until next time, be kind to yourselves.
> 
> Sordidly yours,  
> Amorous Flammetta


End file.
